Letter lyrics

[Intro]
K.E. on the Track

[Verse 1]
Ayy, 'member when my teacher told me I wasn't gon' be sh*t
Now I can freak her, freak my teacher
'Cause I got the stacks, 'cause I got them racks
And I got dem guns, dem b*tches go gratata, click-clack, n*gga, brat brat brat, n*gga

[Chorus]
Never tell me what the f*ck I can't be
Should take a trip to f*cking Beijing
Lil ass Red Bottoms, n*ggas babies
I'ma grown boy, boy, you a baby
Even though I'm a baby, I get cakey daily
Got a gun and that's off safety
Mama always told me never let a n*gga play me
I'ma get my ass whooped and I couldn't take it

[Verse 2]
What's the situation, is the situation paper?
If it is, shake up, I'ma earthquake up
Coolin' with the paper, ballin' is my major
She wants some top, wait up, baby, I'll take that
Pull up on the motherf*cking label, where my cake at?
'Fore I up this motherf*cking chopper and spray it
f*ck rehab, I get high for Bob Marley
Double O-7, b*tch, the skies falling
Bought me some Rugers, I was tired of Glock 40s
Put it on Blood, b*tch, I'm guap shawty
Put it on cuz, I'm a hot shawty
I'ma burn ya ass, on the spot, shawty
Bananas in the summer, chinchillas in the winter
Heard you was mad 'bout your thot? n*gga, get her
Made it from the bottom to the top, n*ggas didn't
That's why my mansion two million, n*ggas bitter
[Chorus]
Never tell me what the f*ck I can't be
Should take a trip to f*cking Beijing
Lil ass Red Bottoms, n*ggas babies
I'ma grown boy, boy, you a baby
Even though I'm a baby, I get cakey daily
Got a gun and that's off safety
Mama always told me never let a n*gga play me
I'ma get my ass whooped and I couldn't take it

[Verse 3]
Heard f*ck n*ggas was plotting on the low
I'm from Chiraq, I be spottin' on the low
I know everything before they thought I didn't know
Pull up on your block poppin' sh*t, Crisco
I'm Kanye rich now, 'member when I was in the field
Runnin' 'round the blocks, while n*ggas gettin' killed
n*ggas sendin' shots, we gon' send them back
Baby, I'm the driver, I ain't in the back
Pull up in the foreigns, they like, "Who is that?"
On Tooka day, smoking Tooka pack
Pull off and I'm tourin' all the hoodlums, man
b*tch, I'm Yung Joc, I'll do ya bad
Coolin' kit on the gun and it'll cool ya ass
Do this rap sh*t for fun, let it fool ya ass
Fredo coming out the cut, he gon' do ya ass
Tadoe slow ass, he shot some more times, ayy