| You just a motherfuckin' copycat |
| Fuck yo ambience, they call me Lox (Hi Lox) |
| Chances that you fuckin' with me, probably not |
| Ninja shit, karate chops |
| Like weak pallbearers, bo-bo-bodies drop |
| I’m obviously on some other shit, your squad is not |
| And all these suckers on my stick, I call 'em lollipops |
| Bark bark, feed 'em to the shark sharks |
| Top of the list, I get to haters like they aardvarks |
| Fuck with me, I got the plug like a car spark |
| Episode III, flow to you Jar-Jars |
| Bananas though, an animal |
| Crazy shit that make yo bitch take a sabbatical |
| The young harlequin, got it like Rastafarians |
| Purple haze like Jimi’s on a guitar again |
| Ha-la-la-lucinatin', I’m seeing stars again |
| But this ain’t Coachella an' those ain’t holograms |
| (What's purple haze? You got me purple dazed |
| I can’t even understand a single word you says) |
| U-u-urban life, u-u-urban ways |
| Turn this bitch to a spectacle like Cirque Du Soleil |
| Just a motherfuckin copycat |
| Why you lyin', you ain’t thought o' that |
| Riding someone else’s dick |
| You fuckin' lying back |
| You just a motherfuckin' copycat |
| Somebody tear these bitches up, professor’s here |
| You know the Chatterbox forever rockin' at your wheel |
| They sayin' this Illuminati shit, puppeteer |
| Elevated, you ain’t even on the second tier |
| They kick cannabis, smokin' like shit’s glamorous |
| Get in some shit, probably as quick as I slip out of it Sick calibre, hustle like Lip Gallagher |
| Muzzle your chick 'fore I get ruffled and flip out on her |
| Customarily built, you ain’t touchin' the kid’s altitude |
| Travellin' 239,000 miles dude, miles dude |
| Lunar status, to the moon and back |
| These bitches sleepin' on me but I’m used to that |
| Can’t tell me nothin', yo bitch can’t tell me nothin' |
| I leave with Gisele, they gettin' fucked like jelly stuffing |
| I can tell you crumblin' cause you softer than a belly button |
| That’s why I can cook it up and all you do is smell the oven |
| I feel like every new release I drop, these rapper’s bite |
| It’s like I’m only here to feed you fucking parasites |
| And what the labels feed me, I don’t have the appetite |
| And all you copycats can blow me like a fucking bag of pipes |