Ben frank, that's my homie
Andrew Jackson, that's my homie
Ulysses Grant, that's my homie
Hamilton, that's my homie
I'm seeing dead people
I'm seeing dead people
I'm seeing dead people
Mid coming in by the trash bag I got that gas bag I need a big trunk
I'm trapping in the low key Honda, pick-up truck pick the bricks up
I whip it up like I got nun-chucks
I go everywhere with my gun tucked
50 round shoot like a drummer, came in the game to kick shit like a punter
I keep with the chopstick like it's Benihana
Me and my plug communicate with numbers
I keep the Judge like I'm your honor
I beat the work in the pot like E Honda
How many brick can I stuff in my Honda?
Started the plug and never been a runner
Add the baking soda hit it like thunder
I keep the money on me by the bundle
Ben frank, that's my homie
Andrew Jackson, that's my homie
Ulysses Grant, that's my homie
Hamilton, that's my homie
I'm seeing dead people
I'm seeing dead people
I'm seeing dead people
I got a sixth sense, (dead people) compact Glock 45 that's the grim reaper
I go MIA with two mamacitas
I wear Givenchy's I don't wear adidas
Rockstar nigga be high like the Beatles
That money chasing me like Jeepers Creepers
Ice all on me like its creatures, these bitches suck on me like leeches
I double my cup and I'm sneeking and geeking
I'm on the percocet this evening
Pop me a xan got me sleeping, drinking a raw four got my cup leaking
Looking for a plug I'm tom peeping, whipping a brick and my arm bleeding
Do anything for the money I need it, dropping a ticket like fall season
Ben frank, that's my homie
Andrew Jackson, that's my homie
Ulysses Grant, that's my homie
Hamilton, that's my homie
I'm seeing dead people
I'm seeing dead people
I'm seeing dead people