I’m in the 4-door Ford escort
Okay I gave her a cavity, you hate that it had to be
Tame as a derriere but it gets scarier

I’d rather pen a verse, some call it audacity
And it’s takin’ his toll by the way human go

With 4 escorts with high test scores
Shout a couple dudes for a career in rap
Where did he get the nerve, usin’ no blackberry
[Chorus: Murs]
Don’t get high, stay fly and inside your lane
Turn up, turn up, fleek, fleek, bruh how real was that?
Nigga, you gettin’ curved by labels and hoes
[Chorus: Murs]
I make art, y’all niggas make hits
When you try to test the best in your area
Like an Annabelle tale, but scarier in fact
[Verse 1: Murs]
Lettin’ my nuts hang like Tiffany had his weave
One thing I’m certain if it hurtin’ ’em I know
You never know homie, I could be a fraud
And after the club, I’m gonna break your wife’s hymen tonight
Your bitch got a sweet tooth
Indoor dro grown next door
While y’all toss salad, anything for a salary

Gangsta ass lollipops
As far as I’m concerned, I don’t fuck with the list price
Softer than the couch, step up, get knocked out
Bitch never wrote a rhyme in my life
I can’t give a F-U-C-K what he sold
This atheist chick I’m fuckin’, she treat me like a god
You portrayin’ a rose, I would say you a troll
Your bitch got a sweet tooth
Your bitch got a sweet tooth
[Verse 3: Prof]
Layaway on your clothes, another day I suppose
I’m poppin’ pills in the VIP all day
Playin’ war games with 4 dames in your name
I make music from the heart and what you make is shit
Casually I turn competition to casualties
Gangsta ass lollipops

Better than the worst but Murs is still better
[Verse 2: Fashawn]
Regal Rhymesayer, Mister Laver, your majesty
I’m an industry plant, I’m just playin’ the long game
In class with them hickey neck sores
Poppin’ bottles in the club, I’m just chillin’ at the house
It’s Fash
The devil is a liar but these boys the truth
They told me real rap is dead, I had to laugh at that
Converse with my rollo, I call him Murcielago
[Chorus: Murs]
That’s too much sauce, that’s too much sauce
Gangsta ass lollipops
I’m an introvert, a street kid, was never into Vert
Where the rappers at? Where the rappers at?
You call it a triumph, I call it a tragedy
Your bitch got a sweet tooth
How is it dead if Wu-Tang’s Forever?

Had to turn to Pookie, "Baby, that’s too much sauce"
Rappers these days ain’t been in a fist fight
The Leroy and Bruce, I deployed the troops
Aerial attacks and burials and wax
[Chorus: Fashawn]
Gangsta ass lollipops