They'll say they're up on their game,
Sweeter than my mother's name,
So enjoy it,
They're the cool kids.
Decked out in all their chained jewels,
They think they make all the rules,
So enjoy it,
They're the cool kids.

And all these rap gods,
Nah they can't sing my songs,
They're always too fresh,
They're always too fly.
And all these rap gods,
Nah they can't sing my songs,
They'll slow it down,
They'll give it a try.
Ha all these rap gods.
Nah all these rap gods.

Hiding behind those shiny grills,
Thinkin' they gon' make a mil,
Put your shades on,
They got their Js on.
So much swag they can't even walk straight,
Sicka than the killa's beats,
Put your shades on,
They got their Js on.

And all these rap gods,
Nah they can't sing my songs,
They're always too fresh,
They're always too fly.
And all these rap gods,
Nah they can't sing my songs,
They'll slow it down,
They'll give it a try.
Ha all these rap gods.
Nah all these rap gods.

They can drop the beat,
They can talk the beat,
They can rap,
They can walk,
They can rock the beat.
They can drop the beat,
They can talk the beat,
They can rap,
They can walk,
They can rock the beat.
They can drop the beat,
But good luck singin' with me.

And all these rap gods,
Nah they can't sing my songs,
They're always too fresh,
They're always too fly.
And all these rap gods,
Nah they can't sing my songs,
They'll slow it down,
They'll give it a try.
Ha all these rap gods.
Nah all these rap gods.