[Pre-Chorus]
What's a quarter ticket? Boy, I'm tryna make a million
You've been on like a hundred glides and never done no drillings
Finessed a few, so if I want that, gotta pay for dinners
They never pay and that's one reason why I hate opinions

[Chorus]
Free my **** jammed, still get money, that don't make no difference
Difference is when them **** locked, they don't make no figures
Bitch, I got so much hoes, losin' you don't make no difference
I got beef with so much **** beefin' you don't make no diffеrence

[Post-Chorus]
Beefin' you don't make no diffеrence
I got beef with so much
Beefin' you don't make no difference
Beefin' you don't make no difference
I got beef with so much
Beefin' you don't make no difference

[Verse 1]
Good food and be on time,, that's how you keep it ringin'
Can't tell my ****, "Chill," just gotta watch and keep on chingin'
Heard he's in jail for punchin' up and kickin' down his missus
Dick inside her somethin', that's the only time l'm beatin' women
When I die, my guys are liars if they don't say, "He the realest"
Go Dubai, put two racks aside, that's just for speedin' tickets
I can't lie, when my **** died, that had me grievin' different
Stick my rambo in and out his chest and now he's breathin' different
[Pre-Chorus]
What's a quarter ticket? Boy, I'm tryna make a million
You've been on like a hundred glides and never done no drillings
Finessed a few, so if I want that, gotta pay for dinners
They never pay and that's one reason why I hate opinions

[Chorus]
Free my **** jammed, still get money, that don't make no difference
Difference is when them **** locked, they don't make no figures
Bitch, I got so much hoes, losin' you don't make no difference
I got beef with so much **** beefin' you don't make no difference

[Post-Chorus]
Beefin' you don't make no difference
I got beef with so much
Beefin' you don't make no difference
Beefin' you don't make no difference
I got beef with so much
Beefin' you don't make no difference

[Verse 2]
I've never seen your gun, you're always talkin' 'bout a scram
He never went on holiday, somehow, he's got a tan
I wasted credit on this girl when I was in the can
Had couple plans, came home just to find out that she's got a man
Damn, put my feelings to the side so l can work it better
Fifteen inch up in my palm, plus, I can work the presser
I should be gone and clear by the time they're freein' Terra
She gave me so much brain, I'm on the verge of bein' clever
Be-beat