ok... word on the block, they say they want some beef, niggas talking shit yea i think its time to gon an creep, my yung nigga tottin ar wit a yellow beam, and yea i pull that trigger im quick to let it sing, yea im trench made, yea i got hood ways, make sure all my yung niggas get payed we on the same thing, aint nothing realer, yea we got them drugs but nah we dont deliver and nigga better dont play, im posted with my hittas leave yo ass up in the dirt, or put yo ass up on a shirt it dont matter we got them choppers that make them hoes shake, crusing in my city smoking gas, all these niggas fake, im in this new corvette c8 and bet it do the race,. yea big forgiatos ya betta gon n tie up ya lace n yea i got them stanky pounds, fat blunts to the face, come fuckin wit me, n u get put up in yo place, yea all im really worried bout is them whiteboy hounds, when we crepping threw u bet not make a sound, when im creeping man i hope my glock dont jam, im posted with my demons n yea well burn this bitch down. rollin swisher sweets, so high i caint even see, caint sit down in cus that 17 on me, tryna get that bundle, thinkn shit sweet ok nigga i live in that jungle, better go play with yo mama, i got kids to feed so im slanging weed only puff that za barely sip the lean and when i do my nigga i bet it aint green, alot of bad hoes and nahh ian talkin wetdreams, ok the yung niggas winning better gon and join the team, yea we chasing money, rolling up that gummy, these niggas keep looking at me funny swear im finna bus it, like fuck it, every were i go u kno im gon thug it, they keep on fuckin wit me n ima press play, give my lil niggas the green light to gon send u to them gates