(Nito, what up, my nigga?) (It´s a Wayne beat) Yeah, alright What up, Wayne? Ghetto Boy shit
I´m in a million-dollar house off rap, nigga, I´m tryna rap Aight
One-point-two just to be exact Fuck around and blanked out, I just took a ´Zac Bitch, when the feds grabbed me, I ain´t look back In a Gucci store, spend six racks, then get a bookbag Right now I´m high off a lot of drank, I just look mad That nigga ain´t got dog shit, that´s why he look sad Fuck around and put an apron on, in my cook bag Sosa for the interception with the drank, I know Snoop mad Somethin´ tellin´ me to do a hook bad
But I´m still in my punch bag, you know, hook, jab Sprite damn near gone, know my cup mad Left in a Maybach even though I had a bus pass He went to jail and got gay, wasn´t gettin´ enough ass Heard a nigga took your cell phone, you know that look bad Don´t give a fuck how much this jacket cost, I ain´t puttin´ it back Mike saved the day, I missed a shot and he put it back Trish with the Quagen taste like glass red That night them niggas stole my jewelry, I was half dead I popped three 30s, drunk an eight, and took a half a Xan´ Bro, I´m still paranoid, that´s why I back in
Where the fuck you get that gun from? What´s that, a MAC-10? I seen a nigga throw his life away ´cause he ain´t had hands Ask me, am I gettin´ money, look at Cass pants My son got on some Amiris with a roll in ´em And he only seven years old, nigga I don´t buy diamonds no more, I´m a gold digger Ten-mil´ chunky, but the four-five hole bigger Bitch pussy hole loose, we stuck a pole in her Did y´all listen to my tape? I put my soul in it Tomorrow, I´m wearin´ slacks, I might pop out like a old nigga Bro precise with that Glock, he a dome hitter Oh, you tryna talk shit? I´m the wrong nigga Ayy, Mike, come here real quick, bring your phone with you This white boy tryna give us ten to send a song to him
I just know your phone slap, you got my old number I think like a OG, but my soul younger A thousand horses in this bitch, can´t keep control of it That house in the A, ayy, Ri, how you much owe? Nothing Let´s talk about Flint, got twenty-four of ´em Stop worryin´ ´bout what I do and go and own somethin´ Twenty-nine hunnid for the Chrome joggie Promoters on some bullshit, let´s start our own party Crazy, I got dog shit and don´t own Cartis Ain´t got enough to buy the Hellcat, but I don´t want a Charger My brother tryna get some drink, I don´t wanna charge him
Oh, bro, you want a verse? Give me four thousand What Veeze say? We already big, but finna go larger This bracelet right here was twenty-four thousand Nigga, fuck your OG, I got my own mama Three-pointer in a five-karat make it look harder I´m finna put on every chain, make ´em look harder Smash the gas in the TRX, I got a foot problem Nah, that nigga feet stink, he need some foot powder We ain´t got no slugs in here, all buckshotters I know a nigga with some money, never took shotters How the fuck I get indicted and I don´t even know how to cook powder?