Nigga who is you/I looked in the mirror said, “Ooh it’s you”/All my goons be too enthused/So don’t open your mouth like you’re chewing glue
Your standard declaration of supremacy, but after a whole album of weepy bellyaching it hits about as hard as an old man in an iron lung. There’s not many avenues left for Wayne to explore and at this juncture the young living makes him sound needy and pathetic, he’s running out of places to run.