I got your backfade, I got your backfade
A hundred niggas knocked out, a hundred racks made
I got your backfade, I got your backfade

Couple Ms for my son, had the track made

Mason jar with the Branson in it
Two-tone Maybach, look like I spent a nigga whole advancement in it
New York bars on a Compton nigga
Mobbin´ through Laguardia, he back and this time, he brought a monster with him
Big Hit on some big hits, poppin´ big shit
Rag brighter than the lady gremlin lipstick
Right pocket on some opposite-of-Crip shit
Stuff half and let the rest bleed like my wrist slit
Land of the misfits
Where we never miss a court date, but we miss Neighborhood Nip´s shit
If I ain´t bangin´ this shit, I´m bangin´ his shit

Hit produced it, I wrote it, and nigga, we ain´t mix shit
And I´m still in the streets with it
Somewhere between the 105 in the middle of the beef with it
Eat with it, sleep with it
Point me out in a lineup, yup, he did it

I got your backfade, I got your backfade
A hundred niggas knocked out, a hundred racks made
I got your backfade, I got your backfade
Couple Ms for my son, had the track made

Told Game just gimme the sign, just point him out and he gon´ die

I´m rushin´ niggas like rushers, L-Gang, fuck repercussions
Nigga, it´s nothin´, I´ll sock you out, stomp you out, knock you out
Max you out like a stolen credit card, nigga
What´s happenin´? P the Rollie, blood, leave the Rollie
Cleats to his face, nigga, meet the goalie
His nigga ran up, then I stole him
On PDL, ´bout to bleed ´em, homie
Nah, blood, I ain´t cut, but I´m cut like that
L-Gang, nigga bust, I´ma bust right back
I keep one in the chamber ´til I´m the one in the chamber
Like the beats on the rest of this album, nigga, we bangers

I got your backfade, I got your backfade
A hundred niggas knocked out, a hundred racks made
I got your backfade, I got your backfade
Couple Ms for my son, had the track made