You know it's all about fame You know it's all about fame I'm a winner in my book Made cuisine, in the kitchen, the fly cook In the air like a rim in a skyhook Deaf jock, my left hook This is easy work It's the mic mechanics See the greasy shirt This is easy perks Follow two steps dot on the chopper My bitch know GQ Manolo boots keep cursin' at the hustlers How you gonna get loo? You're cursing at the coarseness No sales, you better have my cash The feds don't grab me, I got lots of plans I need balls, the all star cash In the leadin roll, call it cruise control Every day is shakable, everything is payable No tings in my armor, I'm feeling unbreakable Swimming through the shark tank I'm top rank for the For the fame For the fame For the fame For the fame For the fame I'm an all, I draw ink Resemble war tank, the grass chopper Spilling up more drink What would I do, I think of ways to smash'em Eyes on me, I throw the anthem Raise that green lantern, in the green fathom, Joke of the town, don't he love handsome Your little league, you only made your dad To take over I'm passing European checks Brush you teeth I'm your early morning toothache Stop the ropes, this is how I... Cotton candy, hot sip and brandy Pass me my suitcase, these skinny fans fruitcake Listen to the gram when it's mixed with cram I'm dosing on my ramble You stoking on my time From the fowl line back to the huddle Right tracks on the bullet train To the shuttle For the fame For the fame For the fame For the fame For the fame Raised by wolves like the book back of Ario Did a lot of dirt but never would say sorry though Wild like the lamb boys down in El Barrio Crimp on the jokes, then you'd better do your cardio Run to 'em and run from 'em He's a killer so you can't take his gun from him He bad coat so his hands feel nothing from him He's a cold hearted bastard, better dumb dumb him Probably a 45, my job is making sure If they violate the big mandalo or shorty ride Out in there stretching in the ambulance We ain't left the ham gram But niggers moving grams on the hand to hand If I'm talking snow what's the avalanche? I ain't thinking of rap but catch me in a battle stamp Yeah it's the ghost motherfucker Guns rappers and blunts yeah smoke Motherfuckers Think Imma rope range The killer here red bone Put that on my hash stone You see the jem stone Call it in the end zone Headphones, Dr. Dre, your new sensation Yeah I got a lot to say You'd better speak So misunderstood Let her speak The new voice in the hood, never had to hide Always had the heart keep it simple and sharp And I land on the sharks for the For the fame For the fame For the fame For the fame For the fame