[Intro]
You can't say that, nig- you can't say nothin' like that unless you caught a body n***a
Ye, you don't even know what the fuck I'm talkin bout'

Punk rock bitch
GEEKIN!
(Wavy Tre the shooter, your bitch favorite producer)

[Verse 1]
Once again I told you I ain't with the playin'
I keep on sliding 'til ma-n***as spin again
You prolly don't like me 'cause I ain't pluggin' to begin
Confessin' to anybody but God is a sin

Them heaven gates is far when you drivin' from the trenches we reckless
He stuck to fifty when we playin' with his necklace I'm stretching a glizzy with a dick I let blow n beheading em'
I do what I rap about so who is you better than

[Verse 2]
Hell Lester shootem' put a shot into his letterman and hella of ma shooters 'round the corner I'on schedule 'em
If the people say they know who did it why you tellin' 'em
Push him with the wally I popped him and shook his skeleton
Fuck the legal system deny it and start a regimen
That n***a heard that chop turned to a better man
No more walkin' I'm playing tennis with hella bands
When I up the light it be thunder bitch I'm the weatherman
Wonder if my commissary finna come today
They shot first I burned one and threw the gun away yeah I'm with the stuffs homie I go the dummer way
We gon' always piss the line when you run the play

Eight Oh, I'm living comfortable too if he don't empty the tool we send him home and send them n***as home for woofin' on telephones
The only way to contact suckas is through the chrome

A couple DMs just tryna see what I be on you read it wrong
Don't be tryna use the family tree you said it's on
And when it's on it's really on 'til everybody gone
We was young and shooting n***as was already known

I was dancin' for the jeweler put the bezel on
She don't know it's fuck a bitch, I must've said it wrong
If you see me out in public we could get it on
That bitch bunk it ain't a site that I'ma sell her on

N***a ain't nobody playing her but you he got a sister I be fucking on her too
I up it in public that n***a turned into a poof
I spit at bitches and all you do is tell the truth

I am the opponent I shoot first no delaying I'm on it
Can't take a picture with the gun 'cause if I see you I'm blowing
From the trenches you could make your bed however you wanna
'less they book me for a body I be out by the morning
[Hook]
It's pouring stopped playing sports and started scorin'
Never hit the gun range shooting pictures is borin'
Jump out on a jumpman shoot'em out of his Jordans we got drakey in the back for the suckas it's more important

Gas'em on the freeway leave him under his foreign
Bullets hit that young black man he turned orange
Gotta hammy on me I whip out and get to roarin'
Can't take me off my high horse I'm Ralph Lauren (HAHH)