[Chorus]
We gon' run down on him if it's 'bout them hundreds
Little boy don't want smoke, he running
Came up, ten bands I'm thumbing
Beat the pussy up and it sound like I'm drumming
Glock-17 and it hold 17
I don't need to cock it got one in the chamber
I'm getting bread right now
I don't need to fuck the bitch, I'll just do that shit later
We gon' run down on him if it's 'bout them hundreds
Little boy don't want smoke, he running
Came up, ten bands I'm thumbing
Beat the pussy up and it sound like I'm drumming
Glock-17 and it hold 17
I don't need to cock it got one in the chamber
I'm getting bread right now
I don't need to fuck the bitch, I'll just do that shit later

[Verse]
I'm up in the studio making them hits
Masked up on the road with them sticks
Designer my body, them Ricky my kicks
I'm up in the trap, had to get off them bricks
She suck on my dick in the back of the Uber
Said that she love me, but I barely knew her
I'm on the scene with my bitch and my shooter
Pushed up in foreigns, you still on a scooter
You don't need no bitch, you just need that bag
I'm going up and it's making them sad
Ain't no ugly hoes, my bitches bad
Sleep at night, no more getting them (?)
Counting these bands, hundreds and fifties
Everywhere I go, that stick coming with me
I get that bag, city to city
Leaving the spot and your bitch coming with me
You don't want war, you don't want static
If you really want it, then you can have it
All of my bros love codes and habit
We gon' leave your spot looking tragic
I pop me a xan, then I won't wake up
My bitch look good, don't need no makeup
I'm in the kitchen whipping like a baker
Hitting these licks 'til I get my cake up