(Getta Beats)
A whole lotta whoop sh#t
The biggest whoop
Woke up wearin’ all designer, this sh#t mismatched
Run off on the plug, he keep callin’ for his sh#t back
It’s gon’ be a cold day in hell before he get that
Got fifty thousand on me, f#ck around and buy a Hellcat
And if a n#gg# say I took somethin’ from him, then he owed me
My fans on my #ss, just tell ’em they didn’t want the old me
We caught him in the hood and we put thirty in his oldie
My young n#gg#’ll pull that b#tch from deep, he shoot like Kobe
I’m in foreign with a quarter tank and I’m sippin’ drank
Got two thousand hundreds in the bag, I just left the bank
What I’m smokin’ on, I don’t know, it come from House of Dank
They got brodie locked behind the walls, he just bought a shank
Any n#gg# disrespect the mob got a price to pay
We pull up, n#gg#s better duck, ’cause we take lives away
Catch an opp, we gon’ celebrate like it’s a holiday
Pull a skit, get a n#gg# hit, I know they tired of me
Skeeze my baby, pulled me to the side and said he proud of me
f#ck a stylist, I just walk in Neimans, tell ’em, “Prada me”
I been winnin’, I been spendin’ like I hit the lottery
I can’t bring my n#gg#s ’round ’cause it’s gon’ be a robbery
I’m used to poppin’ big seals, I had to quit my drank
Say I’m trappin’ in some big hills, boy, you can’t find my place
We be in this sh#t for real, boy, and we don’t fake
Swear these n#gg#s just like Meek Mills, hope we don’t pull no Drake
My n#gg#s know I’m in this sh#t for real, but proud of how I rap
My b#tches know I’m in this sh#t for real, they proud of how I trap
Only jail time, we don’t get no tickets from police
Belaire, but I box him like an ’84 Caprice
You be sack-chasin’ in the club, b#tch, I call that finishin’
Before you coppers try to put me down, I go down like I’m Blizzard
I’m a full trap n#gg#, told ’em that’s my archetype
You won’t see me tuck my jewelry, who said I can’t walk at night?
b#tch, I’m tryna get my groove, you know my n#gg# Skub
I’m like John Wayne, get in disguise before I hit my move
Me and brodie, we like Shmurda and Rowdy, DOAs in all the homis
Bro like Clark Kent, get in disguise before he catch that body
b#tch, I make the bag Shakespeare, but I don’t know no Hamlet
Told the boys we ain’t gon’ celebrate when we blow out they candles
Hit him high, he feelin’ like a king, Marvin Bagley
Told my boys we ain’t gon’ celebrate, we just gon’ bag him
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FMB DZ – Thinkin Rich
FMB DZ – Dripping
FMB DZ Lyrics – Prada Me