(Pyro made it)
I'm makin' racks, not friends
We turn ya boy to a strand
FN Five-seveN, both hands
Louis shirt cost me a grand
I-I play the block like Bam
I-I sold more food than a stand
I'm in the sprinter, just me and the brodies
I'm 'bout to shoot this shit up, hold my Rollie
I made this bitch spread her legs like a goalie
Glock 30 look like a hoagie, nigga
We get the drop, we gon' smoke it
Bitch, I'm the G.O.A.T. mixed with snake
I turn a four to a eight, yeah
Bitch, I'm back like Mase
Bring his head back, leave his face, uh
And I just been chasin' the guap, uh
You niggas chasin' the twat
I'm not a Christian, but I get you crossed
I blew a check, I just fucked up the mall
Virgil L.V. jacket, I need a small (Small)
Nigga, you staff, I'm the boss
I-I drop this bag, get you offed (Offed)
Look at my wrist, Jack Frost, uh
My money long as a sloth
You want the show, send the racks in advance
I can't get you, then we clappin' ya man
I can fit three hoes in back of the Benz
I can fit three killers back of the van
I counted 50K flat, did my dance
.223's burn through ya skin
She like, "What's that in ya jacket?"
This a G-lock and it hold like December
I touch more paper than printers
I up this burner, he turn to a sprinter
Look at my wrist, this bitch feel like the winter
I'm gettin' guap, I ain't worried 'bout bitches, uh
Ran that shit up, LA Fitness
We get the drop then we spinnin'
I'm 'bout to slide, I ain't go in a minute
Play with the zoo, then you dumb, uh
I ran up like 50 a month, uh
Brand new car move like a horse, uh
We drop more guns than a force, uh
I make one call, then you torched, uh
We why the city got morgues, uh
I ran through like 20, was bored
And this bitch hang on my hip like a sword
We hit his head, we don't show no remorse
If he outside, we gon' shoot up the porch
I been gettin' guap, what you mean?
I still got hundreds, that's green
Lil' bro came back with a ring, uh
This that get back, what you mean? Uh
Niggas get— for the team
Free all the bros out the Bay (Pyro made it)
Lil cuzzie spinnin' again and again
I'm makin' racks, not friends
We turn ya boy to a strand
FN Five-seveN, both hands
Louis shirt cost me a grand
I play the block like Bam
I sold more food than a stand
