Man I’m feeling like a puppet they got satan pulling strings Man the way that I be fly they be hating on the wings I ain’t no Lebron James I ain’t waiting for the ring I’m more like a young Simba I can’t wait to be the king Better yet a young Cole, I wanna hear drum rolls when I pass Young Messi, got 101 goals get em fast, finish last never that Boy its hot in here, I don’t care, Where my Sweaters at never lack You put on a clever act, William Shakespeare Feeling at the top, until I die, Ima stay here Welcome to the world where the phony people hate And you know I got that cheese macaroni on my plate And they gather ’round the dinner table only to debate What’s his fate? Is he great? Is he balling? Is he paid? Well uh… success, yes, yes, and yes Double d’s pushed against me I guessed that’s depressed And yes, I do have the S on my chest But its net to the G, Sweater Gang who we be I wanna have the women go insane to meet me We wear chains but we claim to be free And bang stupidly we be fighting over colors Mothers losing their sons and sister losing the brothers Cause the blocks stay cocked in these streets That’s why I prefer the sheets you could say I’m undercover, huh