 I'm swattin' down hard with the devil, bruh Forever young, drunk like Al Bundy and Jefferson Yo, we on the border of the line While I'm flippin' the quarter in order to torture your mind Pullin' off in the quarter to nine In order to rhyme, we on the grind While I'm turnin' water to wine All the preachers do the L-Cow bid We keep the babies about to quip it on our chair