Shout out to my enemies, shout out my competitors
Shout out to my mini-me`s, I hope you do better, brah
Better me, better you, etcetera, etcetera
Shout out to the followers, I will stay ahead of you

Big up to the haters, big up all you low ni**as
Biggin` you all up should make you feel a little bigger
Big up to the fake ni**as from a real ni**a
Fake ni**as, help you recognize a real ni**a

Uh, I`m a Brooklyn ni**a anyhow
Closet lookin` like I opened up a Vinnie`s Styles
Bitches say, "We are the best"
So mami in my jeans PRPS

Yeah, street fitted in a gang
Yeah, at you like a Twitter name
Same place I see `em, same place they chalk `em out
We speak gwap-enese, come see what we talkin` `bout

Holla at your homie, holla at your dog
Lookin` for the competition, holla at them all
Once I say hi to her, she gonna say bye to ya
If looks could kill then my style might body ya

B-b-body ya, b-b-body ya
If looks could kill, then my style might body ya
B-b-body ya, b-b-body ya
If looks could kill, then my style might body ya

Shout out to the groupies, shout out to my ex
Probably sayin` f**k me so shout out to the sex
Don`t get mad at me `cause I`m on to the next
All of this because I ain`t respond to your text

Big up to you bum bitches and your ten dollar dresses
Big up to the big girls, y`all are so precious
Salty bitches tryin` to raise a ni**a blood pressure
Grown little girls, do yo` mouth get any fresher?

Huh? But it ain`t fresh as Loso
Monogrammed out, son, case you didn`t know so
Flow so deadly, swag too murderous
Known for bein` nice, that don`t mean courteous

This is nothin` new, I`m not a beginner
I get big checks like a lottery winner
Her boy dissin` ah, boy, listen ah
Kindly sent him on his way, tell the mortician hi

You better holla at your homie, holla at your dog
Lookin` for the competition, holla at them all
Once I say hi to her, she gonna say bye to ya
If looks could kill then my style might body ya

B-b-body ya, b-b-body ya
If looks could kill, then my style might body ya
B-b-body ya, b-b-body ya
If looks could kill, then my style might body ya

What it look like, ni**a? It`s Young Funeral
Told y`all ni**as I got this s**t ni**a
There Is No Competition 2: The Funeral Service
What up Dram`? What it look like?

Huh? What we talkin`, baby?
What we talkin` `bout?
These ni**as is dead
What we talkin` `bout?
Yeah, I said it, dead, nice

Ni**as might as well lay down in a hole
And throw dirt on they self
It`s funeral