This shit mean nothin' to me I'm so heartless with this shit you ain't take nothin' from 'em Grabbed this AP when it slip and then they shot your cousin I might stand up in the pussy, but I'ma fall in love Bae let's rise above I've been dodgin' horns I be running from the pigs, I feel like Martin Lawrence I was a snotty nose little kid, I feel like Meech I've been blowin' money quick, I feel like Reeve's I spent three hundred for this shit you say I shot your mama Why you lyin' on me and shit 'cause I was in Bahamas? Playin' poker, drinkin' crisp and smokin' weed I ain't never goin' to admit the shit I seen I ain't never goin' to admit— I spent forty on that bitch because she bean I ain't no rat, I don't eat nothing with no cheese This a dirty Glock in these Amiri jeans Even though I'm from the ugly, bitch, I'm clean I just talked to Gotti, say he know my secrets I be killin' shit and think he don't see it I'm with the mafia, they know I'm demon And, I bet you always see me in your dreams I'm born and raised Pompanoya, I'm on leave I miss my blue Toyota, it got seized Syko on the way he pullin' up with Keef I say, "Don't even come if y'all don't got no trees" I keep a tree branch, yeah, dirty sticks Six shooters, I don't need a thirty-clip Dead flowers, I like guns and roses AK-47s and whole lot of motion AK-47s and whole lot of motion (Say, yeah) AK-47s and whole lot of motion AK-47s and whole lot of motion nigga I pay the studio session serving fiends Your bitch in here poppin' pussy, poppin' beans Yet my nigga fell out with me for no reason And he know he fucked up in his ear 'Cause he already know how I be Probably put that boy to sleep when I see him Fuck the F-E-D-S, A-B-C's I'm a lil nigga but I'ma step, that's on my Zs Fuck the fame, I'm rocking Prada with the Re's I told my nigga, "Just follow my lead" I'ma rundown on a nigga, bitch, freeze I'm tryna tell ya, baby, I got what you need
Compositores: Derek Garcia (Dyryk), Max Field Perry, Russell Brian Pochop (Rbp), Bill Kapri ECAD: Obra #43636975