[Intro]
Alright
First Biggie died, Pac died
You know what I'm sayin', everything was cool, laid back
Now we got this fuckboy Flex!
So we gon' do it like this:

[Verse 1]
Put 'em up on the scoop
It's Mr. Bossalini the rider
Got a Desert Eagle with slugs gotta go deep up inside ya
First off, fuck boyflex and his fake-ass name
Talkin' dead on my dead homie to gain his own fame
Fuck fuckboy Flex I'm the Flex Capacitor
And the next n***a that flex be the next to massacre
Incapacitate a motherfucker, leave him broke down and bleeding
For talkin' shit about a real n***a that's no longer breathin'
Old coward-ass lame-ass game-less n***a
I'mma peace to the nine til they can't tame me n***a!
It's two real-ass n***as dead over that type of shit
That you tryna get started, fuck n***a
You look retarded on YouTube cryin'
Shit, I wish I was there to slap you
Right when the first tear dropped I woulda napped you
Night-night n***a (blaw!)
You [?] box
Shot yourself in the foot
When you fucked around with the Mob
It's still West Side, n***a, but I still love the East
But these bitch-ass n***as like you that bring out the beast
Beast, n***a
[Outro]
I'm a mothafuckin' beast, you know what, man, I ain't gon' even ride on yo' mothafuckin' ass no more man you ain't gon' bite that shit (blaow! Blaow!), You know what, we gon' do the Fuckboy Flex Challenge, so all you mothafuckas who don't like this n***a, what this bitch-ass n***a talkin' 'bout, man, let's see you get down, and spit some mothafuckin' gangsta shit, this the Fuckboy Flex Challenge, man, ay-ay-ay n***a, FUCK that n***a! Blap-blap-blaow!