[Verse 1]
Game Time, I'm finna arcade 'em
Major motion pic', my n***a Scarfacing
The whip look like Tony Starks made it
Keep a couple bad bitches stark naked
On all fours, marble hall floors
Caught it off the glass, snatching all boards
Hate a bum bitch with too much lip
But if you getting money, then I'm all yours
Who your family is, it don't amuse me
All that scamming shit, it don't move me
Keep playing, bitch, and you gon' lose me
Wasn't with me when I felt the starvation
Now the P like some shit out of Star Wars
Break dance the bag like a B boy
On some cardboard off of Sixth and Ardmore
Sixty strips on me, all blankets
Drug Zone, 6 and 8 running mates
Top of the key, feel like Paul George
Carl Banks, not a round table
Move your feet, it's looking like a ball banquet
Youngin hopping out, slamming car doors
Shot a hole-in-one, ran off with a birdie
All these n***as bogey on a par four
All this snowballing, somebody call Franklin
Your chain like it came from the middle of the mall
Hanging up like the call waiting
Up the drum, bet he duck and run
Like a n***a seen the Goyard store (Grrt)
All this shit be so uncalled for
In front the music, n***as hardcore
Behind the scenes, n***as not as street
As they pretend to be, I know they all fake
[Chorus]
How many dimes is it to a sack?
How many times can you slip through the cracks?
How many Ls did you take for the win?
How many times did you get this shit back?
Time and a half, had to work in a hole
Lining the Ac' up, McClellan and Mack
Ninety-nine bottles of lean on the wall
I turned the trap to a medicine cabinet
The cross on my bezel is clashing
The law full of metal then plastic
Ducked off, I'm cut from that one cloth
But you was never my fabric
If he snitch, put an X on his jacket
In my hood, it get super Jurassic
As rumored, as legend would have it
My shooters be stepping and crashing

[Verse 2]
Gaga know that I'm a deal drugger
Mama know that I'm a land ganger
Cooking up with a pants hanger
My bitch know that I'm a field runner
Hundred shots in my steel drum
Not too much of a handshaker
Turned your bitch to a pill stuffer
Took her just 'cause I can take her
All I feed her is whale blubber
Get more head than a hair braider
Mob Detroit got the real brothers
Got to meet with the fam later
Fuck with us for a work ethic
Toss so many chirps, I need a translator
All these cakes and terps out in Turks and Caics
Made a thirty play in some Chanel runners
Couple hundred thousand grams later
Still in the hood with the Creatures, goyles, and the yams servers
Fans waving
Little bro be quick to fan a n***a down and let the Kel' stutter
Like San Andreas, real RSC and I'm a hell raiser
Running routes, catching sales, paper
On the Hell Block just for the hell of it
Move the bag quicker than the landscaper
New Dior denim, couldn't even fit 'em
At the ankle, had to get my pants tapered
Twenty-twos ran me twelve-hundred
Ran the street so much as a kid
N***a barely even seen his real mother
Back in youth detention, I was a fed baby
Now I'm the brick man, I don't sell Bubba
[Chorus]
How many dimes is it to a sack?
How many times can you slip through the cracks?
How many Ls did you take for the win?
How many times did you get this shit back?
Time and a half had to work in a hole
Lining the Ac' up, McClellan and Mack
Ninety-nine bottles of lean on the wall
I turned the trap to a medicine cabinet
The cross on my bezel is clashing
The law full of metal then plastic
Ducked off, I'm cuffing that one cloth
But you was never my fabric
If he snitch, put an X on his jacket
In my hood, it get super Jurassic
As rumored, as legend would have it
My shooters be stepping and crashing