Verse 1 
Being a snotty nose never got me hoes 
So I snot a rocket bitch, adios 
Then I?got?myself a bad?bitch from El Barrio 
She did anything?for me, you ain't gotta know 
She moved on to better things, got her a lot of dough 
But I'm all good, sipping Arnold Palmer slow 
To everyone I ever helped out or that's on a roll 
It's cool if we ain't cool no more, I want you all to blow 
Even before me, know it's lil old me 
Never was Kobe, more like Ginobli 
Less like Anakin, man I'm more like Obi 
Scrambling eggs, OJ in the OE 
If you my homie, yeah you better roast me 
If you close to me you know it's Leppy Coqui 
There's like four me's, Rick, Pat, Ralph, and Coach P 
I'mma coach you, teach you how to toast B 

Chorus 
Fee Fi Fo Fum 
New York Giant, here I come 
Puer-Puerto Rican rum 
We high, so drunk 
Ballerina baby blue with Roc-a-fella 1s 
And the low to match notice that it go with that, yup 
Ladies knowin' that but all I really know is rappin' 
Flow realer, gorilla all for that brass monk 
I swear that guy still smokin' clips from fuckin' last month 

Verse 2 
It was the deli, it was K&K where I'd stay 
On the day to day, shout out Sammy, shout out fuckin' Frank 
Before that it was 94, before that 88 
We were ridin' on a horse to get from place to place 
Ain't no stage those days, nah, ain't got paid to play 
A tender age you remember hey, it's hard to say 
Now I'm off a zip trying to stay awake 
Shorty do squats on the dick just to stay in shape 
Phone stay on vibrate when I penetrate, woah 
Hit my jet wait hit you back what you a flake 
Like the dandruff in my hair, you can't stand it 
Can't you tell I'm Italian [?] medallion 
Like what the fuck is up, I don't know no one 
I don't give a fuck, man I'm not holding 
Onto on no grudge, man I'm so sober 
But now I'm on some drugs, I ain't rolled over 

Chorus
Fee Fi Fo Fum
New York Giant, here I come
Puer-Puerto Rican rum
We high, so drunk
Ballerina baby blue with Roc-a-fella 1s
And the low to match notice that it go with that, yup
Ladies knowin' that but all I really know is rappin'
Flow realer, gorilla all for that brass monk
I swear that guy still smokin' clips from fuckin' last month
Fee Fi Fo Fum
New York Giant, here I come
Puer-Puerto Rican rum
We high, so drunk
Ballerina baby blue with Roc-a-fella 1s
And the low to match notice that it go with that, yup
Ladies knowin' that but all I really know is rappin'
Flow realer, gorilla all for that brass monk
I swear that guy still smokin' clips from fuckin' last month

//////

Cleo Reed
I'll win this game this time
I'll win this game this time

Verse 1: Wiki
They ask the same questions
"When?you?gonna get back?with Des'n?
Ratking album, will there be?a next one?"
Try and test him, feel the pressure
You know it well enough
No, we ain't well enough to stress it
Detention reach heat senses
It's released with each measure
That's a music word
See, I'm musical but not a music nerd
Don't know how to use the terms
Lot of cats confused and concerned, like
Wik, why you doing the third?
Y'all just wanna see what y'all seen first, but
Y'all ain't put your feet on my perch
Haven't seen what I seen, haven't been through the works
Like a motherfucking sandwich
Everything they threw at me with me I handled right
These days it's salmon, candlelight
Baby looking camera right, ready
Brand new like Betty
I'ma move steady while y'all move petty
Y'all still going through the rudimentary
I just put you on and you rude already?
Since day one it's been the real Wik'
You can hate some but you gotta feel this

Cleo Reed
I'll win this game this time
I'll win this game this time
I'll win this game this time

Verse 2: Wiki
They askin' bout tour dates
They ask me to show more face
"Your name Wiki, how I'ma find you on that Explore page?
How you got that Wiki flag on that Dior cape?"
Huh, watch the Dior absorb paint
But you don't see my ass up on the fourth page
Got the cover, I ain't wore it in poor taste
'fore then, only fashion I wore was North Face
Catch a wave but what happen when the shore breaks?
Hardly known, now you catchin' a court case?
I'm Smarty Jones at the horse race
Look, you gotta find that horse pace
Wait, last lap, go to first from fourth place
Can't force fate, can't stop the inevitable
Can't look back on the regrettable
Will the label hear more than what is sellable?
I hold it down for every syllable that I'm selling you
I'm telling you, I'm pitiful if not compelling you
But if I ain't lyrical you ain't well enthused
How I feel on that day, I'ma let it loose
Whether we rocking, breaking beats, or it's been a ruse