AyyAyy we rep for real (ooh)In the trap house right now, I don’t rap the peelUnc’ got a big ass crib, he like Uncle PhilMan that’s like two hundred and 50Racks when it’s me and Phil (what up, Phil?)Left wrist, in the fake curry, man, that’s Plain Jane (dirty rich)All my niggas got a Cuban stick, we on the same thing (for real)Bitch keep fucking with the helpFuck ’em with the rank (ehh, we cappin’)Mad ’cause I done cut her off ’causeWe ain’t on the same page (ayy, ayy, ayy)Niggas playing, they get hit up with the same K (bah, bah, bah)Shooter off the Addy, man, he been up for like eight daysI just say whatever to the bitch, she think I’m runnin’ gameHit the time, one day, I came out with a hundred K
Large seven mile, off a seminary, it’s just me and beerNext time you sneak diss me, it’s from the cemeter’Four FOD chains on and my thing longPlayin’ with this bad bitch pussy with my ring onEvery time you see mom, dude, she got designer onBoy yo’ mama shoulda swallowed you or kept the condom onPlus I put her in that big house, got her feet upGucci g’d up, Chanel bags, throwin’ C’s upMy baby mamas ain’t no prostitutes, both them bitches squareBut if I had a baby by my hoe, nigga, who would care?She done gave a nigga ten years, that’s ten mill’Boy your nigga got ten years but he a snitch still
It’s like we still some lil’ kidsStill, we got big wheels (skrt, skrt)Drum, when you load it, gotta spin it like a windmill (grr)Make it play, I ain’t got no service ’cause we in the hillsKick the bitch out after I fuck her, we ain’t finna chill
Me and Sleeps up in Club True, got them thugs tooGot them guns too, and a D, I got luck, trueTold the bitch she better turn around, she wish she turnin’ downI be with the turn around niggas who ain’t gon’ turn it down