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Yeah, Top Shotter, and Dondada, DBoii what up?
Boy, you ain’t no motherfuckin' boss
You ain’t the nigga wit' the juice, you ain’t the nigga wit' the sauce
Park a whip up over here I think them niggas lost
Soon as they declare it’s on them niggas getting offed
Bape jacket on cost a couple thousand
We pull up with big shit that blow up houses
These lil' niggas don’t want no static
Riding 'round with the boogie man in the 4matic
Too many seeds up in one blunt, boy who you copped it from?
And don’t you ask me what this go for, you don’t got the funds
Boy be careful who you mugging, I am not the one
Rich nigga, hit the mall and I shop for fun
Weird bitch out the way I think she gothic
All she do is run through the beans and bring me profit
Yeah Fmb, yeah SOB them my patnas
Yeah make the call huh we gon' pull up with them choppas
FMB DZ that’s my Rasta
Guapanese, what my jeans hold a lot of
Thirty clip, in our Glocks put the stocks up
Nigga get your blunt up out my face, I will not puff
I got a F&N, blue tips with the flashlight
Got my cash right, I just handled three from last night
Yeah I got four bitches in the coupe they all bad
I know some old niggas from my hood they all mad
And don’t put your trust up in me you will get back door
If that bitch give me a wink I’m leaving her back broke
I know some bitches that be jokes but bitch you a bad joke
And nigga ain’t shit funny, the fuck did you laugh for?
I put that pistol to your head you fuck with little brodie
My mama keep me in her prayers 'cause them demons on me
Nigga get up out my face 'cause you don’t even know me
I keep money, can’t keep bitches but I keep a .40
Umm I can’t keep a bitch to save my life
Shout out to the plug, he lowered the price
Bitch I make a bag in every state I land in
This a quarter million dollar car that I’m playing in
We the reason why the other side be staying in
Hudson jeans what I’m wearing, these ain’t H&M's
And I’m just dropping off dick, heard you ate the bitch
And yeah that shit sound good and all but I ain’t convinced
Cell phone slapping, house got a lot a traps
You a rapper, I’m a trapper bust a brick without the wrapper
Got some niggas that’s gon' pull up, let some shots off for me
Got 7.62's that’ll go through a tree
First thing on my mind, get in the booth
I got the juice, Bishop and Q
Why I wanna fuck? Bitch 'cause you cute
Why I can’t hold my tongue? Bitch 'cause I’m rude
Everybody claim they real somebody gotta be faking
All them obstacles I dodged, somebody gotta be praying
Why everybody wanna rush? Somebody gotta be patient
Too much fake love in the air somebody gotta be hating
I done took risks you would never take
No discipline up in your gang, it’s time to regulate
Cash in my pick, bitch come get on me with the devil face
Puff a cloud up out this blunt then you gon' levitate