Live Nation gave me M´s to do my dougie on you hoes
Keep your comments to yourself, I made this for the bros

I start writin´ once it drop, I ain´t even let it load
You take Hit-Boy, you take Mali, you add me and you got gold
Really do this shit for real, boy, don´t ask me what I sold
I´m like Wade to KP, they hit me to break the code
Every time I hear a beat I hit 7 on the dice
Wanna do a song with me? Why you playin´ with your life?
Flow water but it´s room temp, I ain´t got no ice
Made a hunnit, proud to pay- I ain´t even set no price
I wake up and live my life
Smoke my weed and make some hits
Sell out everywhere I go, could a give fuck about your list

Know the voice when you best
Close your eyes and take a guess
I be trying not to flex, but I shot this with my left
N stop fucking playin´
All this time been takin less´
Hit-Boy play a beat and i´ma eat ‘til nothin´ left
Bitch, I grew up near the Crest, College Park to be exact
N* say they from where I´m from
We like “n, where you at?”
Hit LA for some days, I might come back with a plaque
Ain´t gotta ask me I´m from, you hear the beat, The West is back!

Ran up a M, I need another one
I do what I want, yeah, I´m my mother´s son
Bitch, I´m really him, I ain´t the other one
Hit-Boy made a blap, we got another one
Ran-ran up a M, I need another one
I do what I want, yeah, I´m my mother´s son
Bitch, I´m really him, I ain´t the other one
Hit-Boy made a blap, we got another one
Huh, we got another one
Huh, we got another one
Huh, uh!
Wow, we got another  we got a  we got a

We got another one, shipment comin´ ‘cross in a hundred drums
Chuck a hundred bands
Like a hundred pounds of trash while they bouncin´ ass

I´m smackin´ in these lil n* face
Fuck a gram, I take an eighth to the face
I´m sittin´ on mountains of the cake blowin´ cake
Stakin´ up my stakes, have you laid up in a lake
Got a chip on my shoulder, banana chips in my holster
Gone off Banana Kush, blowin´ like a roadster
Look both ways ´fore you cross me Washington & Fair Oaks, I´m a dangerous cross street
Play with somethin´ safe, don´t play with your fate
Big Hit and LaRussell, outchea playin´ with cake
I been playin´ these pianos, real Black Sopranos
Pops is black Rambo, poppin´ bands is mando

Ran up a M, I need another one
I do what I want, yeah, I´m my mother´s son

Bitch, I´m really him, I ain´t the other one
Hit-Boy made a blap, we got another one
Ran-ran up a M, I need another one
I do what I want, yeah, I´m my mother´s son
Bitch, I´m really him, I ain´t the other one
Hit-Boy made a blap, we got another one
Huh, we got another one
Huh, we got another one
Huh, uh!
Wow, we got another  we got a  we got a