Hatin' on me, know I do this music shit for fun
You don't got the pounds, yeah, you know I got the tons
Gave that nigga stomach ache, like, he need some tums
See my boys on yo block, yeah you better run
He think we gon' fight, but I got a gun
Yeah you came in second, but you know we won
You do this for funds
I do this for fun
I just run off on the plug like a trackstar
He toting a bb, now he claimin' he a trapstar
You got caught lackin' at yo spot
Send the addy, send the drop
I'm with yuke, I'm with Jacky, and we counting up this guap
I'm on top, your music flops
Like you cooking, you got chopped up
I got drugs in my belly, and my back like El Chapo
And you'd think it's Call of Duty how I'm toting semi autos
We gon' run down on his pockets, and this Glock is what he follow
[?] 4 grams in my wood
Take off the silencer I'll let y'all hear how I jugg
I be flexing fast cars
You flex whatever's on your foot
Break inside yo house with no mask and no hood
He mad, 'cause I'm too good
Wouldn't do that shit even if I could
Thought that he a bully so we make sure he got cooked
And he's mad, 'cause I'm too good
And I shot him like a flick
Why the fuck you actin?
Nigga, we know you ain't rich
I just sipped some codeine, now my tummy feelin sick
Can't fuck with your homie 'cause that nigga is a bitch
Think that I'm a blade, in the way that I can switch
You can tell I'm paid if you look down on my wrist
I'ma eat some shrooms, and it taste like cinnamon
Bitch, I feel like icemop, yeah, you know that I'm the man
