(I'm on LA time. 6am flight.) I figured i put out somethin' 'fore this shit dropped (P2).
My niggas got grams, my bitches got checks
Just counted another hundred, you niggas look stressed
I'ma smoke a pound and break down the rest
Niggas iffy, got my glizzy, I just found a vest
I pray to God that I don't die tonight
We gon' make somebody cry tonight
Them niggas with you, they ain't ridin' right
Ain't got no time to hate on nobody, I got a life
Bitch, I'm on the Forbes list for real
Mazzetti or the Porche just to chill
Honestly, I could have bought niggas deals
Traumatized, I know how a corpse really feel
I stand over your casket, make sure that you gone
We flocked and run in houses when nobody home
If you put out a hit, they gon' copy your song
If you diss me on a record, we follow you home
Uh, what it do? What's goodie?
I ain't got to pull it out, I throw this shit right through my hoodie
I be on the stage with the fully, I got grams all in my pocket, gettin' jail calls from bully
30 side trappin', I'll never forget bush
Cocaine on my side, forever gon' get cooked
Promoter with the Yolla, forever gon' get booked
Kidnapped 'em for that paper, whoever gon' get took
On God, threw my hood up on the freshman cover
Real niggas by me, I can't stand next to suckers
I just found out Gucci got a leather bubble
Go to sleep with my chain on, I need an extra cover
I'm the one in the Lex coupe, jump out in a sweat suit
Hoodie strings tied tight, run up, I'ma stretch you
The plug tried to call me, hung up like,