Yeah, Ghet-O-Vision, Slumerican, Shady, bitch, yeah

Look mama, no hands
I’m standing on top of a motherfucking hundred grand
They took a shot, Airball
You think I give a fuck about you pussies? Not at all
Yela, how’s it going?
Oh man, I’m standing on top of
the motherfucking hundred grand
They took a shot, Airball
You think I give a fuck about you pussies? Not at all

Ain’t no reason to quit, what the fuck I look like?
To put a cease and a desist on this heat
that I spit, shit, bitch!
I believe in my wits enough to believe on my kids
Won’t be home 'til Christmas
Chevy’s on the wish list
no Santa Claus, no ma’am, no problems
I’m stuck in play like a fair ball
Know you love to call it "fouls"
and "hip hop ain't in the south"
But this country rap tunes
Got a bitch in the back room with a open mouth, ah!
But sacrifice it all and lord knows it
With my life on the bullseye
Make a camera jealous of my focus
And that’s Shady if you ain’t noticed
The thing's loaded
I put that on my great granddaddy named Otis
In a traffic jam, I got my lane open
Play the game with the same token
You did and crack the bank open
When they said the rap game was in the drought
I was swimming in so much dope I
had to break my life jacket out
Like

Look mama, no hands
I’m standing on top of a motherfucking hundred grand
They took a shot, Airball
You think I give a fuck about you pussies? Not at all
Yela, how’s it going?
Oh man, I’m standing on top of
the motherfucking hundred grand
They took a shot, Airball
You think I give a fuck about you pussies? Not at all

Get a work out bitch, run your lips
I know you’d dig a hole six feet deep with a spoon
Just to see me trip
You window shopping and can’t see the gift
When the shit is sitting in front of your face
Like cement in between the bricks
If the world had name for me, I’d be Slumerican
This whole shit started out with, bitch bet I can
And I do it with Casio and a farmers tan and
On the top of the hundred grand, uh, bet I stand
And I made it through 'cause I had heart
Waking up to roaches in my cereal box
Buddy, that’s a bad start
Food stamps in the Pathmark
When some of these bitch-ass rappers
would take a dick to say they had it hard
Don’t make one of these slums come intercept you
Enter your dorm room and punk you, you internet goons
I'm spring loaded with the salt
of an old man drinkin' a fifth
And steering with my knee in an old van like hey

Look mama, no hands
I’m standing on top of a motherfucking hundred grand
They took a shot, Airball
You think I give a fuck about you pussies? Not at all
Yela, how’s it going?
Oh man, I’m standing on top of
the motherfucking hundred grand
They took a shot, Airball
You think I give a fuck about you pussies? Not at all

A couple of loose screws ain’t stopping a train from moving
A couple of bucks short of a bill
and I'm still one hundred proofing
Under the heat like I been metal roofing
In a trench coat and a black hoody
head banging to heavy metal music
I’m now on, thank God, 'Bama it's on
Throwing rocks out the window on 20, that’s a milestone
Hello tomorrow, yesterday is now gone
I dedicate this song to me, fuck how wrong
Shoe laced up, with the mainstream face up
With the same team that I came up with
Mayne what!
Changed the game up like a change up
With a pain that'll drain on to
Bitch you better remain tough
Mayne what!
Used to help Weezy pack up a 50 pounds
Green bay packin' a bowl up, a broke soul packin' a couch
'Cause the landlord used to kick me out
But I went from packing my house
to packing the house, biitch
Like

Look mama, no hands
I’m standing on top of a motherfucking hundred grand
They took a shot, Airball
You think I give a fuck about you pussies? Not at all
Yela, how’s it going?
Oh man, I’m standing on top of
the motherfucking hundred grand
They took a shot, Airball
You think I give a fuck about you pussies? Not at all