First off I wanna send my condolences
Rest in peace to the competition
Sup Dram', y'all know what this is right?
Da, da grillz, da-da, da grillz
Da, da grillz, da-da, da grillz
Da, da grillz, da-da, da grillz
Da, da grillz, da-da, da da da da

I am logged on to fuck niggas dot com
And I am everything these fuck niggas not Dram'
Must be some confusion, you niggas are not me
I am an illusion, really what you cannot see
So picture me,
Like a paparazzi
H, dot N dot I dot C
We don't play when we roll, no Yahtzee
And I hate you niggas, no Nazi
But this the holocaust, rap genocide
Ike Turner take that bitch slaps in the ride
My shorty tellin' me, kill the competition boo
And I be tellin' her there is no competition to (nice)
There is no competition two
It's good to wake up look in the mirror
And the only competition is you
And even that nigga ain't seein' me
My reflection have a hard time bein' me
So the tryna do me shit, it's time to dead it
I'm what ya don't do, even if Simon said it
I kill 'em with the shine, yea these black diamonds pretty
And my watch is sick but I have no time for medics
Black ice in the Ottomar, this is custom order bra
First I call the jeweler up, then I call the coroner
My car is foreigner, my bitch is from Florida
I killed the pussy last night so now her man is mournin' her (damn)
Good mornin' sir, I goodnight niggas
Y'all on death row, I Suge Knight niggas
Time to depart, I book flights nigga
Whats up son, what it look like nigga
Black dress, black suits
Black shades, black boots
Black truck, black coupe
Guns blow, black flutes
Black card, black jewels
Black party bag
Black Friday,
Throw it in a body bag
Black barbie,
That's what I call my black braud
African plug,
That's what I call a black chord
Get ya sharps get ya flats, that's the black keys
Get it slick or get ya holes in ya black tees
Black limos black town cars, black hearses
Black register books, signed in black cursive
Black tears, white tissues outta black purses
That's procedure, when I'm sendin' back verses

The wake
Its the wake right here
Its comes before the funeral nigga
They call me funeral fab
A.k.a. young funeral im killin these niggas
Dram
All these niggas is dead
You look around they all dead
Ha ha its street fam nigga
Nice (nice, nice, nice)

Writer : JACKSON, JOHN / CHRISTOPHER, JOHN
Copyright : Lyrics © EMI Music Publishing