Questioning Your Theory

Ass in the front, ho in the back
 My shit so good they'll probably tell me that I made a stack
 Toppin' bricks on top of bricks
 Layin' sticks I'm off this shit, bitch
 You don't even know my name you claim to know the game
 Bitch, I slaughter
 Gotchyo' daughter
 Step the fuck back, I know you want her now I got her
 I'm on some childish shit
 You niggas think I'm really playin'
 I roll up to the function mad as fuck, I'm super-saiyan
 Man, you know damn well I pay straight with the commas
 I wanna eat good
 Nigga catch me at yo' mommas
 Weird as fuck, you catch me in Dubai on a fuckin' llama
 Hot as fuck, you find me posted in a mother fuckin' sauna
 Never see me in yo' city, man
 I straight hop over borders
 Gun sacks in my closet, man
 I straight link with the hoarders
 No quarters
 I'm always gettin' paid, nigga
 Don't tell me that you never gettin' played, nigga
 Nigga, nigga
 Know 'bout me, know 'bout me, niggas, know 'bout me Yeah
 Fake bitches say they really know 'bout me
 Forget a fucking lyric, man
 That's all I gotta see
 Get your mother fuckin' hands off me
 Try to prove me wrong, I say you gotta fuckin' leave
 Never see
 I was born and raised in a damn igloo
 Dumb bitches really think that's a damn issue
 Night rode up, blacked out, like a shadow in the night
 Sayin' that I'm always right
 Know 'bout me, know 'bout me, niggas, know 'bout me Yeah