I said, "One, two, always carry my tool"
(Three, four) they keep asking me for more
(Five, six) I don't worry about a bitch
(Seven, eight) I can't move, no other way
I got 99 problems, but a bitch ain't one
And I got 99 bitches I don't listen to one
And I don't listen to this, and I don't listen to that
And they could all my suck my dick, I hope these bitches are mad
In the kitchen I whip, I keep on serving them packs
And keep my name out of the mix and I don't need all of that
And yeah, I know what I got, and now I know what you lack
And you can keep all that sauce, 'cause now I still got the bag
And you can't do what I do, and I'll just leave it to that
I smoked a pound of exotic, you smoked a pound of that trash
You see we're two different people, can't ever be where I'm at
They try to say that we're equal, won't equal up in this Math
I said, "One, two, always carry my tool"
(Three, four) they keep asking me for more
(Five, six) I don't worry about a bitch
(Seven, eight) I can't move, no other way