| Czar |
| Czarface |
| Don’t, don’t, don’t, don’t push me |
| Don’t, don’t, don’t, don’t push me |
| Don’t, don’t, don’t, don’t push me |
| Don’t, don’t, don’t, don’t push me |
| Yo |
| Groundskeeper how I touch green |
| No love scene, so graphic I got a cutscene |
| Yeah, I go through it if I can’t walk around it |
| True because I do it before I talk about it |
| cold water, blowtorcher |
| Black diamonds, blue dreams, gold Porsche |
| I’m always on go, all the lights green |
| General official, that’s what the stripes mean |
| You get wiped clean like a countertop |
| I don’t work in the beat, I’m like a housing cop |
| How they thirst in the streets, it’s like they out rock |
| No publicity stunts before the album drop |
| What you see is real, what you heard is false |
| All I have in this world is my word and my balls |
| Money calling, stomach talking, hungry often |
| Honeys hawking, haters hate, funny talking |
| Don’t, don’t, don’t, don’t push me |
| Don’t, don’t, don’t, don’t push me |
| Don’t, don’t, don’t, don’t push me |
| Don’t, don’t, don’t, don’t push me |
| Yeah, yo |
| We criminals on the nightshift |
| Get the billy club or the nightstick |
| Sublim stone I get right with |
| My murder game down to a tight knit |
| Reputations brolic, the story is polished |
| Not laces in my Adidas (Motherfuckers) |
| Yeah, yeah, and I’m not from Hollis |
| Got garlic for vampires and fake niggas who came to gossip |
| You can’t 'dress me with that bullshit, you ain’t even my stylist |
| (You acting all big now) But you ain’t Christopher Wallace |
| See your girl on her knees, she just doing a solid |
| And the funny shit, you ain’t gon' do nothing about it |
| Have a seat you should be doing a |
| See, these young niggas’ll murder you |
| And none of these niggas never heard of you |
| We popped a few things on the curb or two |
| Would’ve had you stretched out laying vertical |
| Don’t, don’t, don’t, don’t push me |
| Don’t, don’t, don’t, don’t push me |
| Don’t, don’t, don’t, don’t push me |
| Don’t, don’t, don’t, don’t push me |
| Don’t, don’t, don’t, don’t push me |
| Don’t, don’t, don’t, don’t push me |
| Don’t, don’t, don’t, don’t push me |
| Don’t, don’t, don’t, don’t push me |
| I’m an alien from way past the Moon, you see |
| I had the shazam, the was new to me |
| Lunacy, puny humans try to heckle |
| I got the, Bill Burr, I’m a rebel level up |
| Poured some wine and I poured it to my face |
| You don light skinny jeans on 24-inch waist |
| Style wild like a from grandson |
| I call the shots like I’m shooting with a gun |
| Trailblazing, hair rising like a man bun |
| I’m so psycho on mics, you so psycho in tights and heels |
| Turn on the like |
| Louise, I’m catching casual Ts |
| (Hey, one more time, bro. Wait, what?) Nah, I like this take |
| Popping shit at Esoteric, that your life mistake |
| I’m a he like |
| Your future looking Bleek like you tryna be Jay’s friend |
| You put the S in wordplay, you get swordplay |
| So you know the stabbing tracks with my forté |