Yeah
First I fuck yo bitch
Then I skrrt away (skrt-skrt)
Drop top in the Range (woah)
And she wanna give me brain, (ok)
Bitch I got the Glock (woah)
And it got a range (pew pew)
Bitch I feel like Danny Ainge
I might shoot to aim

Bitch I'm dusted off
Yeah I'm guapped up
Off a xanny pill
Feeling well off
In my fuckin leagues
Like the NBA
Bitch I ballout everyday
Bitch I'm Pilt Chamb

Guap-gang, with the foreigns
Feeling back, Coach went farm in
Two Glocks on me, I can look its Siamese
Act like ok its about timing
Bring me the hellicopters

Choppa gunna make em run
You a piece of shit, you a piece of junk
I can't fuck with birds, I can't fuck with chumps
Got it out the mud got it out the slums
And if they wanna talk me go ahead and lie
Bitch I'm smoking baba, birdy bitch bye
Why the fuck you lying, why you lie
I just got the guap yeah I'm bout to run it