I got the rap patrol on the gat patrol
Foes that wanna make sure my casket's closed
Rap critics they say he's "Money Cash Hoes"
I'm from the hood stupid, what type of facts are those
If you grew up with holes in ya zapatos
You'd be celebrating the minute you was havin' dough
I'm like fuck critics you can kiss my whole asshole
If you don't like my lyrics you can press fast forward
I got beef with radio if i don't play they show
They don't play my hits i don't give a shit SO
Rap mags try and use my black ass
So advertisers can give 'em more cash for ads, fuckers
I don't know what you take me as,
Or understand the intelligence that Jay-Z has
I'm from rags to ritches niggas I ain't dumb
I got 99 problems but a bitch ain't one
Hit me