Man of the Hour

[Verse 1]
Blewell jeans, Moby Dick stitching
Trigger finger itching
To trouble one of you niggas
I'm daring one of you niggas to jump
I'ma snatch you out pistol whip you
Then put you back in the trunk
Shit, I'm back in the front
The front page of the newspaper
They say I'm seeing more paper... true
But only if you knew that
I was in your house right now taking the paper from you
Where ya safe at?
Chick is swinging on the dick like a fucking bat
And catch it all like an umpire
I'ma go hard, rims bigger than the fucking car
Baby girl say why the fuck you even got tires?
I don't know, just get inside
And never question my shit again ho
I fold dough like a notebook
I see money, you pass it up like Magic Johnson no look
Who the fuck taught you niggas how to cook
That's what I'm hearing up in your song
Beat said if you're cooking up the product and your wrist don't hurt when you do it then you're doing it wrong (fucking bidness)