[Verse 1: E Cole]
14 years old and im about to start running sh**/
Rapping on soul and I'm still able to get that clitirus/
Idolize my character, setting a role eductaing them little kids/
I got balls to get out that hole you still hiding in the ditch/
Writing this rap with strep throat dot matter if I'm sick/
A couple months from now you'll call me a mixtape-legend/
I know my future home is behind the gates of heaven/
Sweet smelling legend like yankee candle/
I'm just k**ing sh**, like Mickey Mantle/
So you better get a grip cause I'm too hard to handle/
(Chorus)
[Verse 2: E Cole]
My mom said I got more than I can ask fo'/
When I look in my pockets I don't see any cash though/
This sh**s too easy, give me something difficult/
Max turns up the beat so It dont f** with my flow/
All my rhymes just so dope/
Best part that its all natural
Quick like a cheeta, I must be an animal/
But not a copy cat, I just don't steal rhymes like that/
I guess I'm just so hard to handle, that's a fact