[Intro]
Hello (I need to talk to you)
You callin' me at six o'clock in the morning
I got shit to do
I don't have time for this shit, man
Nah, man, fuck all that. I don't have time for this shit
It's too goddamn early in the morning
I don't know, I don't fucking know, I don't know
Leave me alone, man
Oh my God
Stop fucking bringing her up
Hold on, hold on
What do you mean she's dead?
Oh, shit (Oh shit, oh shit, oh shit, oh!)

[Verse 1]
Yeah, uh
March 11th, 1997
My n***a A. died, most dogs go to heaven
But, what about the pits? The neutered and abused?
What if tramp finds his lady below the heavens like Blu?
Shit, I missed my cue
I almost was a star but they shot me out the sky in favor of something new
I tell ya, I’m a jerk-off, I love fuckin’
But if you preggo, I'ma drown that baby and knock the suds off
Damn, but I ain’t that lucky
I’m just messing around, yo, I’m surprised you’d even fuck me
I’m probably getting cuffed in the car
And this MC will spend the rest of his life going over these bars (Ironic)
And I don’t need a fucking drug test to tell me I'll be high
Off cocaine and big checks
In 20 years, when I’m feeling like a fossil
Talking to these kids ’bout the good old days
And how this 90s baby made it in 2012
Without no cosigns or help (By myself!)
I tell them that it started with a song about Jane
A little printer paper, one pen, and all caps
I started my career in a classroom lyin’ about the game
And now I want the fame
(Fame, fame)
(Fame, fame)
[Interlude]
(Fame!)
(I want the fame!)
(Who want the fame?)
(Fame!)

[Verse 2]
Yeah, yeah, yeah
Here’s some people on my “fuck you list”
Every politician and their snotty-ass kids
Fuck Chet Haze, fuck Asher Roth and cold feet
I don’t love brain but I do love pussy
Cross my path, consider yourself lucky
I’m in a bad mood, bruh
You do not wanna fuck with me
I’m on seven truth serums worth of face cream
God made me brown but I need a repainting
So, fuck you and fuck her
I love clothes, new shoes, and fresh perc
So, fuck Biggie, fuck Blu and fuck Murs
Real hip-hop dies when Teddy got the boots with the fur
And we all had our hand in it
Made a soap box and nobody wanna stand on it
So, for the fuck of it, I’ll be the next Canopus
Rap my ass off and still have nothing to show for it
Gain a cult following, the pits of passion
Never clear my samples, get sued by Janet Jackson
Walk up to her face like “Bitch, what would Michael do?”
Rope her in with lies, get out the punch and spike the truth
Get off without paying any royalties
Try to talk to her but like Pac, she avoided me
But I love you, girl, don’t run from me
I don’t care about your age, girl, you’re lovely
[Interlude]
Yeah, yeah
It's all good, cause I’m famous
And I don’t give a fuck about you, bitch
(Dévon, if you ever become rich)
(Remember to use your money wisely)
(Don’t do anything stupid, okay?)
Fuck that

[Outro]
Thank you, thank you, thank you everybody, thank you
Appreciate that, thank you for coming out tonight
It’s been a wonderful show
Time to dip out
I got what i came for, I’m fucking famous
I got money
Got money busting out my jeans
I’m gonna put a $20 bill in the vending machine
Just to see what happens, you know what I’m saying?
See if I get any change back
Uh, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah
I got the fame, who got the fame? I got the fame
Uh, uh, uh, uh
I’m gonna fuck a porn star just because, yeah
I got the fame, bitch, I got the fame, bitch
Let’s make a sex tape
Uh, yeah, ah shit
All this money, haha
Do the Boss Johnson dance, I guess
Aw, it was a dream
Aw, that’s great, that’s great
It was a fucking dream
False alarm, fucking dream
Goddamn it