作词 : A. Young/T. McCray/M. Mathers/F. Nassar/A. Joiner/V. Smith
 作曲 : A. Young/T. McCray/M. Mathers/F. Nassar/A. Joiner/V. Smith
 Yeah (Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah)
 What? (Uh) What? (Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah)
 Dre, you ready? (Woo, woo, woo, woo)
 C'mon (Yo, we gotta do whatever)
 Alright (Check, check, check, check, check)
 Get 'em!
 Cut 'em undercover, timeless
 Ready for 'em, progress
 Feelin' like I'm just gettin' started
 Two shots back for my dearly departed
 Uh, you are now dеalin' with a monster
 Boss shit, profits
Doc Dre, bitch, I'm a prophet
 Black Wall Street, niggas know whеre the stock is
 Heh, try me
 Niggas never see me, but it ain't hard to find me
 Heh, unwinding
 Shit's blinding, still grinding
 Uprising, agh
 Stop talking 'bout the past, I'm the future, nigga
 Agh
Nigga like me still here, mother****er, go figure
 Lookin' for my next gold digger
 This summer here gon' be colder than winter
 Already told you, I fold you like hundreds of billions
 And you can go missing, put that on my children
 Bet that, nigga, what?
 Regret that, run it up
 Heh, and I'm about to sum it up
 This shit here that problem
 Livin' at the bottom of a bottle
 "Full throttle" my motto, eh
****ing with me like ****ing with the lotto
 That awful in your nostril
 In a brothel, this is gospel
 Yeah, I'ma need all that, pronto
 Yes, I, yes, I, yes, I ride 'til I die
Give a **** if you bitches die
Put a mother****ing hole in your face
Back up, bitch, don't even try
I am that mother****er, been the coldest
 Why you on that? No one know us
Overdosed on what **** is (Yeah)
 Hip-hop shit sell better than the coke did
 Like a satanic cult, it's
An old ritual slaughtering GOATs, bitch (GOATs, bitch, yeah)
You're ****ing with the original, flow's sick
And anybody can get it—COVID (****ing with that?)
 I done wrote shit
That was so sharp, I could slit my own ****ing throat with it
 So rich, I got more chips than my shoulders
 And I'm about as approachable as a roach is (Roach is)
 Yeah, so better steer clear from him
 Here comes a nuclear bomb for your eardrums
 Lyricism at its most fearsome and fierce
 We're on another tier like a tear duct's upper echelon (Yeah)
 Your career sucked (Meaning what?), it was sheer luck (Like what?)
Like a ****ing leprechaun with its beard cut
 (Still a) Punisher, weapon drawn with a beer gut (Haha)
 You're slower than a Decepticon with its gear stuck
 (And I what?) I serial kill, and you're Kellogg's (What?)
 I love checks and I hate tricks
And you're a fake bitch (bitch)
 I could spot you like you 'bout to weight lift (Yeah)
Bitch, I'm badder than cake mix
 (But I) Can't be whipped with egg beaters (Nah)
You bitches must be out of your minds
 And God is my alias, so if I don't have faith in me
 Then it basically makes me an atheist (Woo!)
 Nate Diaz got the world by the tracheas
 In a chokehold and a sleeper (*Snores*)
 Yeah, and me and Dre are like dog hair (Woof)
 We're both in our lab coats like retrievers (Grrr)
 But like a Doberman, I'm a whole different breed of (What?)
 Animal mutt mixed with a overachiever (Yeah)
 Oh, you're the king of rap? You're 'bout to be overthrown
 Like a pass over the head of an open receiver
 This shit could end up comin' to blows like a wiener (Haha)
 But I ain't finished puttin' these hoes through the wringer (Nah)
 Like clothes in between the two rollers, and– wait, no
 What I mean is flows interwoven, I treat 'em like thread (Why?)
 That's how I wound up sewin' Machine up
So, ****s, if you don't give up me, then
 Time to ride or die, 'cause you're either both or you're neither (Yeah, yeah)
 Throw a middle finger up if you're rollin', but, me, I'm gonna— (Yeah, yeah)
 Ride 'til I die
Give a **** if you bitches die
Put a mother****ing hole in your face
Back up, bitch, don't even try
I am that mother****er, been the coldest
 Why you on that? No one know us
Overdosed on what **** is
 Hip-hop shit sell better than the coke did