Outta' here Mista' Rodgers, sister dodgers, I'll drill your shit like 49ers.
I don't need your lookin' ass around, steerin' my town, stickin' your little faggot stars on her wedding gown.
I hit her like poggers, fuck'er right in front of your little daughters, start her shakin' with her hoggers.
The only thing keeping me from pickin' up anotha' is the price per acre you wanna charge to bake her.
I don't need another solutions architect running around my fuckin' crib, I already got all the answers.