| Like damn wap, how get a bitch like yeern |
| I’ma drop top nigga 'cause the sun won’t burn |
| Wanna live like guap but the stripes ain’t earned |
| I’ma get it right now, ain’t waitin' no turn |
| Got a brand new house, tryna avoid her |
| 'Bout six point somethin' in the field like church |
| Heard his hood got whacked, and the set went turn |
| Got a four-eight-eight in the glide like Curt |
| I’ve been livin' off golf for the last few deals |
| When the night check came and I still got chills |
| Hit a 2K lick and I ain’t even go broke |
| Gotta boss LA, now I’m smellin' like goat |
| Call me Ice Cube baby, when they sit on my chain |
| Heard a lame ass nigga tryna play with my name |
| On the twenty-three tour and I’m goin' no brain |
| Goin' dumb with these hundreds, now my thumb got stained |
| I’m a nigga out here, everything come free |
| I ain’t never met God, but I bet he know me |
| Put your money in the set a nigga dyin' in the streets |
| Alley hoopinh, now he ridin' on fleek |
| Got a porch light skin and the ceilin' got peeled |
| I was twenty plus year when this shit got real |
| Young black boy runnin', got me out of that field |
| Made a livin' off gang, you should get it on film |
| I ain’t never your kind, late but I’m really on time |
| Girl, what you put in your mind, I ain’t givin' you a sign |
| Truth, but that pussy ain’t mine, hurt, but I made it out fine |
| Still in my prime, broke nigga, really out lyin' |
| Talk like he Tony Hawk, grind throwin' twenty on a nine |
| Nigga how you live with no spine? Broke nigga better off dyin' |
| Man, you niggas got nerve, broke ass, need to get a bird |
| Fuck it, I’ma get it off first, from the way you ain’t surf |
| You bitch niggas lookin' all hurt, funny 'til your ego got nerfed |
| Boy done made it all worse, woke up, lookin' like «Word?» |
| One-fifty layout my shirts, twenty layout my teeth |
| Boy, I make a M in my sleep, everything I want in my reach |
| I’ma run it off tops, wonder where I’ve been? I’ve been pullin' off lots |
| Fo'-fifty-four, I’ma keep it on stock |
| Cognac bezel with the ticker on rocks |
| Figg side nigga tell me what I ain’t got |
| Made it right now where I got it back then |
| Number one stunner with the love of my |
| Raised by the gang with a mill' like Philly |
| With the watch, two-fifty and a bitch so- (Blue) |
| Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, uh |
| Yeah, uh |
| (Shoo) |
| When the door got closed, I ain’t feel too bad |
| I’ma run mine up, I’ma have some stashed |
| Now you in a broad purse when you goin' outside |
| Now you wanna couch surf and you keep a little rat |
| Nigga livin' out his backpack, need to get it back |
| Got a gray double R and it need both lanes |
| Got a dime to his name, but he all gang-gang |
| But he all on my dick, and I find that strange |
| Keep playin' with the fire, but his ass get burned |
| Bet your boy got split when the light got turned |
| Got his head all cracked, but the boy won’t learn |
| Big racked up shawty when the block gets served |
| Niggas always sorry when the cap don’t work |
| Got the butterfly doors and they fly like bird |
| And I love my bitch, but I ain’t them nerd |
| Like damn wop, how get a bitch like yeern |