Lyrics:

My attitude like, None of these niggas fuckin wit me
These lil rappers they throwin aint really nothin to me
Chef Trez...ayo, Smack, tell me what this about
Wait, so this is the mission that niggas dishin out?
So smokin you is gon get Brizz to come outta that hole Im tryna fish him out?
They brought me back to work in the DMV
I guess its Ls Im gon be givin out
Chef Trez, you know you lost
Its no remorse, Im goin off
Hammer on me, it aint to hold em off or show it off
They squad up, my arm up: Im like a know-it-all
Head shot: push his shit back like a holding call
Whats up?
Stop talkin bout the work you be pushin!
See, these niggas be they own flaws
Theyll tell you who drive they own cars
Who the connect, where they meetin, who done sold hard
Thats when you mask up wit the-
Dont matter, just know the chrome large
I hit Trez, then come off the plug like the phone charged
Straight menace
He gon run to Tay Roc like, Yo, they stole the coke, the bag, weed, straight finished
All the weight lost (loss): Dre Dennis
You gon have to explain to Tay Roc for eight minutes!
We both in V.A., but you aint safe in it
Silencer, meet my freak bitch: she put her face in it
And when they together, it dont matter what time they snappin
Close-range, he wouldnt even know a sound was happenin
Cause the shit sound like...exactly - no crowd reaction!
Im back in this SHIT, nigga!
Now we gon turn up!
You a Writer? Well, Im here to put that pen under
Make ya men wonder, why, you a bench-runner
Nigga aint been hotter than ten summers
Pussy nigga wouldnt bend rubber!
The Chef? If you serve shells, its to end hunger
If I serve shells, its to hit you, and leave ya mens under!
Cause this here? A fence-jumper
This four aint no PIN number
Fuck yo drive! Cause the clip Im holdin longer than a VIN number!
You dont do enough!
Always talkin he keep his toolie tucked
Fuck outta here!
Nigga rockin the Lil Uzi cut!
Im suited up, cause niggas actin like this a plate for me
No, Im suited up, you gon look like Drake to me
Im suited up, cause this aint about who could hold a gun the tightest
This about the Chef thinkin I was a plate
Now you gon fuck around and catch a stomach virus!
DMV, Im pickin up where I left off!
No, we in the DMV
When Im pickin up, whoever left? Off!
Cause its no games witchu!
I dont care if his lil gang witchu!
Im where the soldiers be
No mask on, niggas know its me
I walk up, Trez get the free smoke like stolen weed
Social media had you 3-0ing me?
Lets go and see
Blade to his chest, I hold it down like Im tryna reload the feed
Who hoein me?
All these dark-skin niggas wit oversized clothes: these niggas Jodeci!
Automatic for the static
Oh, they rollin deep?
Well, you cant dodge this big bitch forever: Professor Oglevee!
Its no chinks in my armor, but let me vent somethin
See, when I first came, I had a PG when a PG really meant somethin!
My own style, own slogan
Every battle, Id invent somethin!
Rookies vs. Vets, my zombie line had the event buggin!
Summer Madness my first year - they cant prevent nothin
The crowd turned on me - that was corny - but I dont resent nothin
Cause that shit made me the man I am! They aint prevent nothin
But Chef Trez, you dont present nothin
You got your story wrong
He just went to Cave Gang to get his glory on
I did my thing better without the group: Im like Omarion!
Fuck is shorty on!?
Man, its nothin that yall tellin me
Weaponry, Ill be over the Top - BOW! - of this street (Streetz) nigga
Now its him spittin: its not Born Legacy
Thats Round 1, yall know I came to chalk him out
Ill look him dead in his fa-
No, let me do me...truly...smooth, see
Ill rebuttal my own shit and have somethin rose from this new T (tee)! Bow!
Round 1

I say, yo
Salute to the DMV
Salute to Wavy, too, that nigga wild when rappin
But Im a real street nigga, nigga
Like, really, the Cal is blastin
You say its on silent like...the crowd reaction?
They all focused
Ill BOW! so they look that way, then (*swoosh*)...
Real killas get away wit a loud distraction
See, Im somethin-
You lookin in the sky like dont none of this shit faze you
Til you the nigga I stick a blade through, the arm
Movin left and right, Ill let it wave through
Intestines, liver, kidney, the nigga Wav through
Knife to his back: I can even pedal through Wav (wave), too!
This battle gon be somethin different
You think Im playin, right? Say good night!
You dead off rip
Why would I take you light?
You take advice?
You shouldve stayed away from this stage, you aint as nice
You got a push, popped out, then died, but thats the way of life
I wish you would trip!
You aint never been on no hood shit!
Stop the fakin
Every nigga I know named Joseph was a good kid
And yeah, my name is Santrez
But in this ring, I slaughter guys
So if they put Wav (wave) over San (sand)
Thats only gon bring out my darker side!
Im one of the niggas you should run from
You all performance, no bars
Dont forget where you come from!
Youll get a head shot and a leg shot wit a dum-dum
Now you dont gotta walk like a zombie, you gon become one!
But how you walk all dumb wit it?
You think it look slick?
Nigga, even wit the biggest pants that way, it wont fit
You gotta salt the barrel, or remove the clip, wit double socks
So when you tuck it in your shoe, the barrel dont rub against your skin!
Is he a killer? Naw!
He probly do got guns that can lift us all
But these shitsll shake America
Have the country rockin, like Tim McGraw!
Wait, I say-
You barely put in work
Smack, thats what yall lettin him do?
No promotion, no network, and thats the way yall lettin him move?
Then he say I aint as nice as him?
Well, shit, to tell him the truth
You aint had a bar as fire in three years
Nigga, you aint even better than-
Wait, that wasnt even you!
Talkin bout you fathered it
Thats Montana of 300, you stealin other artists shit
Well, for stealin from 300, I should off ya shit
Catch ya bitch pushin ya seat out, give it that Sparta kick!
He hella gassed off his Twork win
But yall think this fucker is nice
Well, heres some fuckin advice:
Keep it rap, before I fuck up ya life
Why would I cut him wit knives, when I could gun-butt him wit .9s?
Split through the dark, and have it goin against the white meat like Brother Polight
You weak, scrap!
Name any place in this world you wanna meet at
If its beef, then the heat clap
Gun under his chin
Man, all that shit, and the way your name see that
Ill still shoot, barrel spark and flash under the beard
Im bringin Mr. T back!
My bro called and said, Chef
I say, Bless
He said, Dont they find treasure in the bottom of the ocean?
I say, Yes
He say, So why you battlin Joseph? You already ahead a couple steps
Cause you have to pass Wav (wave) when you bury that Chess (chest)!
But its Mr. Debatable til I squeeze a K
Its gon hit you, or your peoples face
Now its really debatable, cause Imma put it to one (2-1) either way!
Nigga, you cant get street wit me!
If you go to talkin wild, you better speak quickly
If you beef wit me, youll get the MAC wit the bandanna tied around
Ill do the scene gritty
Aim down, wit the rag over Wav (wave): watch him 360!
You aint done much
You let your shorty twerk on stage, you lil dumb fuck?
If I let a ratchet show her ass, everybody gon witness a gun-butt!
Your temple split
Its crazy Im the one in love wit the gun...but you the one pistol-whipped!
I dont get ya kind
Aint nobody shootin shit but me, this pistol mine
Its not far from us
The ratchet jet-black: its my nigga .9
Its gettin tragic for you
Bitch-made nigga, youll let your homie clap it for you?
Do the damage for you?
Well, your best friend can turn to a dead man
He can go from your best man to holdin ya casket for you
Nigga, I dont give that Nike check and the rose where you stand at
Nigga, everybody in a Golden State til they in a coma state for three months
The Wesson the hand clap
Long .30, have him curled up for a season: hell take a Kevin Durant nap
Nigga, fuck it
I say, nigga, Im goin wit the basketball shit, and this nigga will miss if he let it ring
Like, literally, he'll (Hill) miss the shot, then the Smithll fuck up everything!
Time, time

This nigga actin like he chosen
Close-range shot, you know he open
Nah, nah, I said close-range shot
What you movin? What you movin?
(*click, click, click*)
My Smith fuckin up: J.R., what the fuck you doin!?
Dont come for me unless you sent fo
Yeah, he the Chef, but your restaurant dont got the A in the window
Lemme talk to him
See, rebuttalin is clever...but it dont make you better
Thats why your stats missin
All he do is hell flip another nigga profile of work onsite
You kinda catfishin
Sometimes the rebuttal be fire, but sometimes the shit be ass
Im not gon pretend, dude
See, they might not boo cause they not tryin to offend you
You only get reaction cause your freestyle be off the top, just like the name of the venue
O-Red said your-
He said your verses be better than-
No, he said your rebuttals be better than your verses&
See, this why Im your worst dream
Your style unique, but sometimes, you gotta expose things
See, they may temporarily be blinded by the bullshit
But after a while, they gon all see right through you: you a smokescreen
Fuck you mean? This a walk-up head tap
Cause you was hype off of that Chess match
But dead that, cause South Park was the last time we saw a Chef black - facts!
Wait, wait, wait, but before I get in my zone quick and unload clips
I think Itd be dope if I rebuttal my own shit
Like, yall remember South Park, right?
It had Kenny, Cartman, Kyle, and I think Stan on it&
No - can he dip?
Cause whats in my cart? Man, a .50-cal wit the stand on it
In URL, stop thinkin that you hard
Prep and Ryda both beat you - stop thinkin that you God
JC crossed you out like the logo of a Lincoln on a car
Trez went to work with Rum and got fucked up
The Chef shouldnt have been drinkin on the job!
Yall want bars? Keep it real
I know, I know, old Trez fans is like, Yo, Wavy bringin up old battles-
Ill tell you whats the deal
Yall watch football? Then you know the drill
Cause its like a quarterback versus a quarterback
See, we both goin head-to-head
But the stats was all determined how you did against the niggas in the field
FIRE, nigga!
Im on my bully!
Brooklyn shit, nigga, my mind dangled
Ill bring a tres-cinco-siete to Trez: we speakin bilingual!
He in parentheses, multiply: we doin times tables
Try to dip, I fire sticks: I couldnt find cable!
Body shot! Body drop!
But a face shot will change how God made you
Yall star aint gon be the same after the shot: he got Kawhi angles
Ill flame you, but I move smart
See, I defend wit honor
Heart cold, empty monster
Who actin? I aint win any Oscars
You Blood? Well, your loved one will get a red box
Maybe ya aunt, ya mama
Wait - a red box is Aunt Jemima
Look, I handle Llamas and send the drama to end the karma
Have the Chef surrounded: reservations at Benihanas!
Usually, its middle fingers up: fuck what you believe
If yall the X-Men, youd be Jubilee - who disagree?
That weapon I state? Close to my mid Wess (Midwest): Tennessee
Think Im gon lighten up behind these rounds? I aint DJ Kid Capri
Im in the streets
Monopoly game board: keep a piece
.38, do the Spinaroonie: Booker T!
Look at me! Look at me!
Look at me, nigga!
Look at me! I can tell you wanna clone shit
But I think itd be dope if I rebuttal my own shit
Now remember this last Survivor Series? Now this guy can relate
But you gon dig it, sucka
He gon die to escape
I did the Spinaroonie, then waved a 5 in his face!
You told Chess, Without the Chef cookin, aint nobody eatin in this shit
...No, thats what them Cave niggas told you before you got done wit the clique
I see it now
Ave was like, You a Chef? Mufucka, bring that plate right back
I want a steal, well-done - nigga, straight like that!
Brizz heard him, too
He was like, Oh, so you a Chef, huh?
Trez like, Of course, five
He said, I want an omelet, toast...but I like mines a little on the dark side.
You know Tay Roc heard this nigga, right?
If you cookin for the Cave, my nigga, it better be dead nice!
I want a cheeseburger wit no pickles, nigga - THATS LIGHT!
Chef Trez, he ran to the kitchen
That niggas so eager to flame
He like, Damn, if they fuck wit me, Imma be gang gang gang
I aint gotta battle none of them niggas! ALL my enemies changed!
Yo, where the fuck my food!?
Trez came back wit all three of them thangs!
He lookin at me like, He not NIIIICE!
Hes sayin a bunch of things that ME NO LIIIIKE!
Niggas ampin you up to go go and fight
Too bad you aint gon be Champion of the Night
Thats Round 2, yall know I came to chalk him out
Ill look him dead in his face and ask him, Fuck is you talkin bout?
Wavy

I say...I was on the job, right
Doin what I do, goin through some shit, but my mental like, Dont let it stop you.
My nigga Ave like, Make my shit straight. Like. That.
I said, Aight, my nigga, I got you.
Tay Roc said, Nigga&
Aight, my nigga, I got you.
Brizz say-
Aight, my nigga, I got you.
So Im in the workspace and they tellin me to never be lackin
Cause a nigga might come in, and niggas be actin savage
So if a nigga rob me while Im makin all three of them thangs, itd be his worst day
And I was drinkin on the job - Chef keep the .40 in the workplace
I say, you supposed to be top-tier at this point, Wavy!
I know the fact that you stuck in the same spot got you goin crazy
You got a nice movement, but your career dead, and you cant fight through it
Cause your biggest moment is bein a zombie, so its impossible to bring life to it
Ill get this man a coffin
Spin his block wit the hammer sparkin
The arm out the window, Wav (wave), like I seen family walkin
I cant stand the talkin, but let me get the feel dawg is violent
Imma drop the situation...wit ya jaw behind it!
You tired bitch!
Beat Shine fast-rappin ass, and think you at the top of the chain, nigga?
Well, I got a K spittin wit rapid-fire
Lets see if the outcome be the same, nigga!
You was on big stages
It dont bother you that you here?
Its crazy you made noise beatin Twork, but he the one that added volume to (Volume 2) his career
You wasnt wildin out!
You wasnt wit us on every stage fightin til the vets started dyin out
You was dyin out, in Bed-Stuy, hidin out
Well, for all that runnin, get shot in the leg
You wasnt ridin out
But think he savage
Ill put a big cap to a goon knee (Gooonie): hell take the Ryda route
Just leave the venue before you get your life damaged
In real situations, he might panic
You better bolt (boat)
Let that sink in, Wav (wave), like the Titanic
This sucka done!
Niggas always backin out on you, makin you have to reschedule, you fuckin bum
If I back out on you in a battle, theyll never be able to book you for another one!
You cant write wit me
Or post on the block for a night wit me, servin nice sticky
When you bag it up, it look like you handin out Rice Krispies
See, I played ball and ran the streets
And wit that same line, exactly why I played point guard
Cause I could make calls for the trap and go for the steel (steal) at the same time
You told Twork, Two Ks (2K), horizontal view: niggas playin on broadcast
Aw, you play 2K, too?
Well, I got two Ks, too
They work best when you aim down on a nigga: we in 2K view!
Im doin dawg tragic
Im strapped up, plain .9 wit the sparks blastin
Nobody gon jeopardize my career (MyCareer), plus I doubt you part savage
Online, he mean, but run in-person, get caught lackin
Wont even make it off his feet before the shot get released, like the Park laggin!
Aye, that bucket hat Chef? They used to like those days
And thats what you gettin now, you bout to die on stage
Remember that small gun, nigga? Yeah, mine gon spray
But you dont see the heat, just hear it when it go off: its micro, Wav (microwave)
Ill come to where he stay-

(*Suddenly, a scuffle breaks out off-camera at the back of the venue, and everybody looks at where the fight is happening to try and stop the situation. A brief pause in the action*)

Aye, now that shit threw me off
Yo...
I say, nigga, I had this shit painted perfectly
Yo, I said, I had this shit crafted perfectly, but niggas sabotagin the fuckin picture
All that fightin in the crowd, whatever, dawg, yall some sucka niggas
Now, Smack, Im sorry this shit had to happen
You know Im fuckin wit ya
But when you punch like this, it usually got influence on other niggas!
Yo, I say, Ill come to where you stay, snatchin ya shit
Killin ya mom, dad, bitch, dog, even the cat in ya crib
Leave out, but remember I forgot to shoot Joseph, so I backtrack to that bitch
Since I forgot the Wav (to wave), its only right I come back wit the fif
You crazy if you try and scrap
He wanna fade me, til he the one I spray the .9 at
He had heart til I left Wavy lyin (line) flat!
He aint really made for this life
Directin the church, Lord
You ever cause pain to niggas for real? Well, I hurt more
Gang shit, fuck your beliefs
We could have a turf war
Shotgun shells hittin Wav (wave): look like a surfboard!
Look, Wavy, Imma lose my cool if you lie in another line
You aint clutchin .9s or hittin licks
You give off a frontin vibe
You dont know about wearin winter clothes in the summertime
Hat, mask, long sleeves and gloves: look like a fuckin mime
Time


Spit Dat Heat, Writers Bloque, Bullpen&
Now you Cave Gang
Chef Trez should be yo slave name
Spit Dat Heat where you was knockin at
Writers Bloque is where you locked in at
Bullpen, you coulda been on top of that
Now you Cave Ga-?
We gotta put a stop to that
See, cause you Blood dont mean you gotta be everywhere whats (wuz) poppin at
But I guess he think this his season end (seasoning)
But, Trez, everything I do, I move around wit ingredients
Like my whip the color of paprika
My honey know Im touchin a lot of state cheese
So bae seal (basil) her mouth and dont say things
She just there to get that onion powdered and then bae (bay) leave
But chill, he (chili) on that powder
But yet, niggas done rolled the dice on him
I understand you the Chef, but let me mix up these words, but sprinkle spice on em
Like, youll get kidnapped, you and your bae sealed (basil) for about 100 hours
BOW! The soul of your bae (bay) leave when that pap reek her (paprika)
But dont think I aint got nothin louder
Cause if the guard lick (garlic) a shot, then Trez leave wit that onion powdered
Youse a fuckin coward, and you dont really be ready to ride
Real beef, you cant sleep knowin your opps is alive
You be official, paranoia, it be all in your mind
Niggas think that you cool, niggas think that you fine
But fuck that, cause you about to be a victim of mine
You stare like you got heart, but to me, his vision is blind
Your style not intimidatin, I see it all in your vibes
Hazel contacts, yo, Trez - lightin up wit them eyes
Cause a face problem, niggasll straight rob him
Pull out a grip, you got a .8 problem
Hammer over your eyebrows like a fitted wit a gray bottom
He from Golden State? Warrior?
Man, Ill make this shit hotter than South Beach
Catch you out East, this face shot final
BOW! Now the Chef got a real reason to lose that mouthpiece!
Im the wrong man, wit a long can
Hammer everywhere that I go like Im a Thor fan
He step and get hit wit the left...I used the wrong hand
But I still gave him somethin for nothin: nigga, this Gods Plan!
Act like you Tarzan!
Come swing through my hood like you that guy!
MAC fly!
Stomach shot, he feel it in his gut like a bad vibe!
Keep calm, dont act shy
You Blood-bang, you that guy
Ill hit five wit a four-fif: sound like a cap size
Headshot: I changed his cap size!
Blood all over the body: nigga got baptized!
We dont do subs, Im really at (@) guys
Since Brizz aint wanna jump in the ring, I had to attack five
They thought you was trash!
I aint look at you like no wack guy
So before yall label me an Undertaker, dont hold this body over my head cause this his Last Ride!
Finish him!
Cause niggas tried to forget Wav
Well, Im back, sharp as a switchblade
Get brave
Im Wild n Out wit a Cannon, but I aint Nick age
Yo, P, I couldve took that bread and not showed up, like I used one of my sick days
Four promotions! Another promotion! Nigga, the fif (fifth) raised!
Im strapped in!...
Nah, nigga, I already clapped him!
The pool stick is back in
The kickback made me backspin
I rewind: backspin
Moonwalk: Mike Jackson!
My bro still shootin - he fuck around and clap him!
Cause I dont even feel the need to write for this nigga!
Im not gon hold you, I was tight I had to write for this nigga
If you was hungry, I wouldnt share a bite wit this nigga
Dominos pizza: he wouldnt give a slice to this nigga!
Fuck that! Ill probably give a slice to this nigga!
Look at your kicks - I dont even like the Nikes on this nigga!
If he was gettin jumped, extra leg work
Ill exercise-bike on this nigga!
Swear to God, I will break every Constitutional right on this nigga!
Cause I swear to God, he be leadin the people!
You said some shit wit some confidence, and I swear they believed you!
You said, AR in the pants leg and you walk regular cause you used to it
AR in his PANTS-
AR in them pants legs! And you walk regular cause you used to it
AR in the-
Where was you goin?
Who you had beef wit!?
You was walkin reg-
S-so niggas aint peep shit?
See, that combat? Niggas dont really be on that!
I respond back!
Dont be lyin (lion) on the arm like a LeBron tat
But fuck it, since yall jackin that, fuck it, I might as well do a lil some of my own shit
I got a rocket launcher in my pants leg&
My back pocket, I got a missile, nigga!
But nobody could tell cause I was walkin like a crippled nigga
Thats Round 3, yall know I came to chalk him out
Ill look him dead in his face and ask him, Fuck is you talkin bout?
Wavy, nigga


That nigga Wavy called me, I was like, Yo, whats good, my brotha?
He like, Nah...Bed-Stuy in the building, you ugly mufucka&
Where. Is you. Going!?
To see your mother
The AR in my pants, my nigga - its a rubber
(*laughs*) We on that funny shit, right?


I aint hear what he said, I aint get that (*chuckles*)


Aye, I said, you been irrelevant your whole career
What happened, clown?
I thought you woulda graduated after John and Shine
You know, got your cap and gown
But it seems your last battle got you big-headed like you snappin'
Wow!
Another Cardi B: the Twork (twerk) got bitches thinkin' they rappers now
But you don't get no shine, to be true, scrap
Hell, we almost forgot that you rap
When Beasley called and said, 'You got Wavy,' I almost asked the nigga, 'Who that?'
See, I peep flaws
You rarely in the field for real, if I can recall
You pussy, too
Don't seem like a shooter, or the type that's wit' the street brawl
You'll get pistol-whipped, then catch bullets
You think it's sweet, dawg?
Get the handle, shot, then celebration: we playin' street ball!
He don't get what I'm sayin'? He think he gon' murk the Chef?
I talked to Roc, see, he said, 'You gon' kill him? Are you certain?' Yes
So you X'd out
Leave where you at or all (Adderall) your niggas could merge wit' death
I got the .30 and they itchin' for the peel (pill): that's a Percocet!
You a fuckin' comedian! All on the funny lines!
But when I grab a MAC (Mac) wit' the ray (Deray) on it and start dumpin' mine
Hit the cats (Katt) wit' you, then let shots Rock your heart (Hart), let's see who's the funny guy!
Bitch nigga, stop actin'
All that cappin' won't work, clown
When you was gettin' off your school bus, I was sellin' my first ounce
Ya don't know what pain like
I'll aim right, I bet it hurt now
Leg shot, neck shot, he tried to run...but could only do the Twork bounce!
When it come to not sayin' shit, you one hell of a guy
Even though you only had one fire moment, they still lettin' him try
Well, I'm reckless, my weapon'll fly
Another fella to die
First it was arm wave, then the deuce: 'Hello, goodbye.'
It's 'Shotgun in the pants leg, he walkin' like a zombie wit' it.'
Well, a shotgun'll pump his bitch stomach
Now she walkin' like a mummy wit' it!
Nigga, I don't get the clown!
Against Twork, you kept yellin', 'I'm in the Town!'
Well, when you get boxed, let's see if you that hype when you in the ground!
I'll spin his block like a PG battler ready to spit a round
Stop Snoopin' - Baby Boy'll see dawg (Dogg) wit' the window down
But Champion...where y'all at?
Champion, y'all act like 'cause a nigga don't battle often, he automatically gon' kill stuff
But do y'all not know that when you leave shit sittin' on the shelf, it builds dust?
Or if a machine don't get put to use, it builds rust?
But he a star and got bars?
Them pair of lies (paralyze) the reason he losin' his real touch!
Nigga, fuck Champion! I don't fool wit' them clowns
I'll TEC Tech, put a .9 to Blac, and sit a few of them down!
Talkin' 'bout 'he got more fire moments than me' - nigga, quit lyin'!
He only had two fire bars his whole career
Y'all niggas dick-ridin'!
Fuck Wavy! I'll have the weapon flyin'
I'll give you the metal (medal) for puttin' on a show
You can be Champion of the Night for a second time!
You speak vicious
But once again, just up here actin' wit' weak writtens
Well, if performance is all you need, then I see why they believe in it
But I thought I was gon' get a dangerous Wav' (wave), that make ships sink in it
Instead, I'm up here havin' fun wit' Wav' (wave): this shit a beach visit!
30-love! I'm a killer to you!
Dirty snub: wit' the nose, I got some pickin' to do!
Against Shine, talkin' 'bout 'pullin' the race card'
Fuck that - debit and credit
I got a perfect score on my face card!
Dawg, I will kill you in real life
Nah, you ain't worth the pain
Who am I kiddin'? Burst his brains
Have Joseph sprayed out
Now it's Wavy through the city: I caused a hurricane
Nigga, time