Reach for a chain? Boy, yo' ass made a huge mistake Mister Do The Dash in the coupe No, I don't use the brakes Why the fuck you got a vest on? We came to shoot yo face Star player Came a long way from when I hooped on crates (hey) You still workin' two to eight I still hit the set everyday And run through some pape' Smellin' like a pound of 'Za In the newest BAPE I cannot put you on the play All you do is flake I cannot put you on the team Yo' stats lookin' rough I cannot show you how to whip But unky cook it up Two Glocks tucked Buyin' ice, lil' bitch, I'm good in Hutch Been the plug this whole time I had to go and hook it up First class flight straight to Heaven Glocky took him up Every dub I gotta take a diamond Go and put it up You be scared where I be 'Cause you ain't hood enough They ain't never catch my hitman 'Cause his hood was up Bitch, I refuse to be outperformed (brrt) In a droptop Heard you stuck in the house with chores She ain't throwin' neck? Jazzy Jeff Throw her out the door Exotic Vernor's, pint of yeah 'round Think I'm 'bout to pour (a few minutes later) Think I'm 'bout to snore Grown man stash I can pull a hunnid out my drawer Road runner Up shit whether I go south or north High as hell eatin' chili cheese Fries without a fork (jeez) Spill my double cup and left the floor sticky Stone Island pants on my legs These ain't no Dickies Bitch sent her CashApp This lil' ho so silly Set the play up for lil' bro That's the coach in me Fully switch on this bitch Boy, this ain't no semi Trackhawks and Hellcats around These ain't no Hemis Made it off the harder way But I don't know Penny Bankroll cotton candy You ain't gon' see no twenties What I'm drinkin' muddy I ain't sippin' on no Casamigos (who at the door?) Fucked around and almost shot the peephole Thinkin' that you Southwest T But you ain't got a kilo Throw that bitch all the way down Call me Tron Marino Bitch, I'm forever fresh Yeah, I got the juice Hand cake to the cashier I'm just coppin' shoes You got some nerve in that coat Boy, that is not a Goose Where the fuck 12 Mile Kyle? Boy, we gotta shoot I need a six or a four, I can't drop a deuce Down in TX, I'm off a eight Feelin' chopped and screwed Dawg broke-ass cracked a joke but I am not amused Sleeve Nash I'll close my eyes while I lob the 'oop Man, put that motherfuckin' gun down 'Cause we both know you not 'bout to shoot European sneaks on my feet Can't pronounce the shoes Men in Black type shit Shoot it hoppin' out the coupe (whew) Thousand shots through his crib Now his house a roof Can't say exactly but it's big shit I'm 'bout to do Last dude I punched Two weeks 'til they found his tooth Why you talkin' big money shit? You never counted blues Fuck, damn, shit, two hunnid on the dash Shit changed, got up off my ass I'm runnin' to the bag Try some bullshit? Gang and 'nem gon' up a couple MAGs Backwood', puff, puff, puff, bitch Fuck a pass Somewhere tucked on the west with a quarter ticket on me Flyin' through the hood Hit the Coney with the pistol on me Shit, I can't smell what you cookin' You a big jabroni We gon' put you six feet deep Up a fist up on me (brrt) Somewhere sinnin' with a pair Of Christians on me (brrt) Bitch do a trick She done turned to a gymnast on me (brrt) No rap cap, I got some shit up on me (brrt-brrt) No rap cap, a thousand shots You tryna get up on me Engine purrin', skrrtin' 'round Flowin' in the Jag' truck Thank God I'm up All them times I had some bad luck Spent your life saving on these damn Buffs Scam God I won't stop 'til I'm in some hand cuffs Whew Hey Shittyboyz, Dog Shit Militia