| Ricks ain't gotta match |
| Wrist game Patek-Pat', ooh |
| Yeah, fuck the bitch, have her mad |
| Paddy-wack, nigga diss, got 'em whacked, move |
| Trackhawk, the Hellcat, bulletproof Cadillac |
| Extended glizzy, automatic tool |
| Yeah, fifty drums, a hundred guns |
| Bitch, you tryna fuck me or somethin'? |
| Hope you know what you comin' for to do |
|
| Put it like this, niggas ain't on shit unless they with they crew |
| Look at my bitch and she even got way more heart than they do |
| Buddah blessed this beat, he sent it to me, then I blessed it too |
| Nigga mention me, threaten me, drop check instantly, soon as the text got |
| through |
| Track' is a quarter of this 'Rari truck, already ordered it, niggas are late |
| Gotta feel a G6 from the safe today, safe to say, shit ain't safe |
| Talkin' money, I ain't heard nothin', baby talk |
| Fuck niggas, keep runnin', you finna get to see your baby walk |
| Big old stepper, can't stand me, fuckin' a super on FAU campus |
| Go with your move, I counter it |
| Wipin' shit so much, I switch out the oxygen, run a bit, ayy |
| Bad lil' bitch, ain't cuttin' no check |
| Don't ask for shit, this all you gon' get |
| Ain't had a bitch that made me moan |
|
| Ayy, big racks, havin' that |
| Ricks ain't gotta match |
| Wrist game Patek-Pat', ooh |
| Yeah, fuck the bitch, have her mad |
| Paddy-wack, nigga diss, got 'em whacked, move |
| Trackhawk, the Hellcat, bulletproof Cadillac |
| Extended glizzy, automatic tool |
| Yeah, fifty drums, a hundred guns |
| Bitch, you tryna fuck me or somethin'? |
| Hope you know what you comin' for to do |
|
| Broke up with my bitch, she know what she did, I caught her drinkin' my lean |
| I been up three days straight, I ain't even been chasin' my dream |
| I got the infrared beam, boy, they green, I keep the Snipes on routine |
| Cute bitch eat all my Kids Cuisine, I think she like makin' me fiend |
| I propose on my two feet, but I ain't gon' get on my knee, won't bow down either |
| You ain't gotta bow down to me 'cause, baby, we kings and queen |
| Ain't losin' this bitch, I put voodoo on her ring and a tracker |
| Now you Sniper Gang, sign this contract, baby, fuck a pastor |
| I'm 'bout to cut my dog off, he got on my last nerve |
| Dirty ass, I'm finna get his ass murked, he took the last Perc' |
| If it's up to me, you already know I'd walk |
| Keep standin' on business, I gotta drop one |
| Nick-nack-paddy-wack, get his ass gone |
| I'm headed back home, 'bout to give her that bone |
|
| Ayy, big racks, havin' that |
| Ricks ain't gotta match |
| Wrist game Patek-Pat', ooh |
| Yeah, fuck the bitch, have her mad |
| Paddy-wack, nigga diss, got 'em whacked, move |
| Trackhawk, the Hellcat, bulletproof Cadillac |
| Extended glizzy, automatic tool |
| Yeah, fifty drums, a hundred guns |
| Bitch, you tryna fuck me or somethin'? |
| Hope you know what you comin' for to do |
|
| I get it how I live, I don't got no regrets |
| Even when shit low, I don't get upset |
| By any means, closed mouths don't get fed |
| My motto every day just to get a bigger check |
| Stack it to the ceilin', we just 'bout them billions |
| Motherfuck a hand, dog, we get it from the muscle |
| I couldn't stand still, man, you know I had to bubble |
| Had to shut the demons up and had to stay out of trouble |
| Every man for theyself, you gotta learn to hustle |
| All that cap you doin', don't make me bust your bubble |
| Just bought a Chevelle just a drive on Sunday |
| But I catch lick on a Hyundai, actually, all my niggas on gun play |
|
| Ayy, big racks, havin' that |
| Ricks ain't gotta match |
| Wrist game Patek-Pat', ooh |
| Yeah, fuck the bitch, have her mad |
| Paddy-wack, nigga diss, got 'em whacked, move |
| Trackhawk, the Hellcat, bulletproof Cadillac |
| Extended glizzy, automatic tool |
| Yeah, fifty drums, a hundred guns |
| Bitch, you tryna fuck me or somethin'? |
| Hope you know what you comin' for to do |
|