[Damn, Tye, you made this b#tch too? The f#ck got into you?
Shoot him ’til he red, when they got us, I ain’t panic
b#tch, I’m certified, shoot ’em write my name on ’em
Geekin’ hard up in designer, hit the gas, f#cked up the tires
n#gg#s workers, I supply, n#gg#s grown, but money childish
I been countin’ all day, man, where the f#ck the money counter?
I been quit the Nike Tech, b#tch, all my jeans cost a thousand
I don’t know which one his crib, so we just gon’ go house to house
Chain on cost more than a pop kit
If n#gg#s’ mans was still alive, he’d die again [f#ck him
Firebombed his #ss oncе, he ain’t grab the chopper sincе
She said I stand on top of business, I’m a real pit
Pull up, hop out, chopper make a p#ss# n#gg# dance again
It’s a trip how we walked out just like Nick Cannon them
And I ain’t goin’ inside if I can’t bring my cannon in
Dead n#gg#s talkin’, I got dead n#gg#s talkin’ to me
Put him in the dirt and drop his iPhone in the coffin with him
Never broke break the code and go out rattin’ to be honest with you
Mama know I’m out here thuggin’, she ain’t got no problem with it
Told it’s time to pop outside, they got us f#cked up
Keep talkin’ ’bout they slidin’, shut the f#ck up
Bro, he got his mask on, he gon’ nut the f#ck up
And I got my mag on, clutchin’, I got one up
n#gg#s actin’ like they know us,, we ’bout to show ’em
Askin’ if I brought the load, tryna see how we gon’ smoke ’em
Told me stop actin’, n#gg#, I had to get back to totin’
‘Bout to get to crashin’, bro told me chill with all this emotion
Go hard for my n#gg#s who ain’t here
No cost, if you wanna be the boss, pay attention
Flip they sh#t over, if they run, know to hawk ’em down
I ain’t wanna talk, never did, slime your #ss out
When I leave the crib, sh#t get real, lot of n#gg#s die
Talkin’ out the mouth, one shot sits his #ss down
Sweet like a baby
The way we rock n#gg#s to sleep, we should make ’em pay us
In too deep, ain’t no love, I can’t even save you
Long live my babies, I’ma see ’em later
Shoot him ’til he red, when they got us, I ain’t panic
b#tch, I’m certified, shoot ’em write my name on ’em
Geekin’ hard up in designer, hit the gas, f#cked up the tires
n#gg#s workers, I supply, n#gg#s grown, but money childish
I been countin’ all day, man, where the f#ck the money counter?
I been quit the Nike Tech, b#tch, all my jeans cost a thousand
I don’t know which one his crib, so we just gon’ go house to house
Chain on cost more than a pop kit
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