(You say Felds too hard)
Gang, gang, gang, gang, gang, gang
I need my motherfuckin´ chain on right now
But I´m still chain gang (Gang)

Linebacker to the quarterback, bitch, I got the sack
Foenem pull up on him with the rocket, put the belt to ass (Bah)
He been talkin´ spicy, knock the nachos out his fitted cap
Raw dog assassin, hit your bit´ without no jimmy hat (Ayy)
Twelve comin´, I don´t even give no fuck ´cause I got bail money
Alabama brawl, I´m finna slam this folding chair on him (Bah)
Real fucker, I pay for her hair ´cause I got jizz on it (Boy)
Real talker, I geeked up my ride, I slide, I road runner (Skrrt)

You can´t put your bros out with a bail, you ain´t no real boss
Real talk, Maybach double MG, I feel like Rick Ross (Huh)
Real Wock´, two-thousand dollar in this soda, my nigga, that´s real drop
On the block, three-thousand dollar in this fit, tell a bad bitch, "Check me out" (Check it out)
I got your bitch and I talk like a pimp, I tell her, "Come hop in this Jag´" (Hop in a Jag´)
I used to walk to the store with some chips, now I be poppin´ a tag (Poppin´ a tag)
Christian Dior with the VETEMENT drip, know I be switchin´ the swag (The swag)
Came to my crib and I pissed on a bitch, but you still thinkin´ she bad

Linebacker to the quarterback, bitch, I got the sack (Got the sack)
Foenem pull up on him with the rocket, put the belt to ass (Bah, bah)
He been talkin´ spicy, knock the nachos out his fitted cap
Raw dog assassin, hit your bit´ without no jimmy hat (Come on)
Twelve comin´, I don´t even give no fuck ´cause I got bail money
Alabama brawl, I´m finna slam this folding chair on him (Sat down)
Real fucker, I pay for her hair ´cause I got jizz on it
Real talker, I geeked up my ride, I slide, I road runner (Ayy, ayy)

Ayy, Trackhawk, ´fore I got used to mine, I crashed like three-four times (Swerv´)
Big Swerv´, give a fuck what I drive, as long as that bitch go fast (Skrrt)
GT leather seats smell like BP, hop in that bitch, smoke gas (Smoke gas)
Over East, nobody wanna make us mad ´cause they know we gon´ get on they ass (You know that)
Bitch with me fine, but I know she ain´t mine
Give her a dime ´cause I still know she bad
I´m well known for fuckin´ off racks
Walk in the club and they open my tab
I fuck around, have Gnar in the ´Raq
AR look like a guitar in his lap (Grrt)
Three, four Cubans my starter pack
Don´t take no pics, we´ll charge you for that

Linebacker to the quarterback, bitch, I got the sack (Got the sack)
Foenem pull up on him with the rocket, put the belt to ass (Bah, bah)
He been talkin´ spicy, knock the nachos out his fitted cap
Raw dog assassin, hit your bit´ without no jimmy hat (Come on)
Twelve comin´, I don´t even give no fuck ´cause I got bail money
Alabama brawl, I´m finna slam this folding chair on him (Sat down)
Real fucker, I pay for her hair ´cause I got jizz on it
Real talker, I geeked up my ride, I slide, I road runner (Skrrt)