| I clap the back his head, rapid lead fire |
| I don’t care what a rapper said, they’re liars |
| They don’t want smoke, they pussy, they wouldn’t dare try us (they don’t want |
| smoke, nigga) |
| Lambo is black and red, spare buyer (BOOM!) |
| Bitch with me look like a early career Mya (HA!) |
| Get out of pocket, I’ma crack his egg |
| Have niggas eternally nappin' like he dead tired (hahahaha!) |
| Uh, you eternally sleep (woo!) |
| I’ll leave ya momma with the burden of grief for the words that you speak |
| Uh, smokin' like B-Real burnin' Khalif (what up my nigga?) |
| 200 P’s, told the plug I’ll return every week (I'll be back) |
| Uh, I don’t know where niggas heard it was sweet |
| You throw shots, we returnin' a three (BO-BOOM!) |
| I go and shop, I put fur on my freak |
| I’m in the spot, Gucci socks, purple mink |
| Even bag the bitch servin' me drinks (talk to 'em) |
| Uh, shooters do you dirt for cheap |
| I’d rather do that murder discreet, so niggas never heard it was me |
| I don’t fuck with niggas, so it’s real if you heard that we link |
| Blink on my hip, hoppin' out black Suburban with flee (woo!) |
| Or push the Rover, I got it off the shit I cook with soda |
| I got in this rap game and I took it over (it's my shit) |
| Check the stats homie, look it over (HUH?) |
| City put on my shoulders |
| Yeah, right on top where the bullet hole was |
| 2000 for the boy slippers |
| Yeah, Le Chemin Du Roi sippers, no fentanyl, boy flippers |
| Tanks in the wall got the Koi fishes (HUH?) |
| Oyster dishes, pullin' off in Royces, nigga (VROOM!) |
| And I put that on Royce, my nigga, I will hoist this blinker |
| When you talkin' to me, lower your voice my nigga |
| Yeah, please think it’s a game |
| I will throw all this shit away, when I squeeze 3 in ya frame, pussy |