[Intro]
Yeah
(Hahahahahaha)
Lay 'em down, lay 'em down, lay 'em down
(Hahahaha)
Bitch
You know what the fuck goin' on
We back
Lay 'em down, lay 'em down, lay 'em down, yeah

[Verse 1]
Bitch I’m back on my shit like some TP (Ugh)
In the swamp like a crawfish, knee-deep (Yuh)
Middle finger to the feds and the P.D
Till I D-I-E it’s Cali on the I.D
A-R-K-I-E bitch that’s me (Yuh)
She want my balls in her mouth like some thai tea
Don’t talk to me when I’m grubbin' bitch I’m tryna' eat
Like I got O.F, these rappers wanna buy a feat
20 racks or I won’t even open up the MacBook
Break 'em down roll him up, smoke you like a Backwood
Bitch I’m highеr than the logo for Paramount
Don’t say shit unless it’s somethin' that I carе about (Yeah)
Where is Darkie?
Don’t worry 'bout my whereabouts
Looking at me wrong, grab yo' eyeballs and tear 'em out
The only beef I got is wagyu, bovine
Do you like a towel on a clothesline, air 'em out
[Chorus]
Lay 'em down, lay 'em down (Bow, bow, bow, bow, bow)
Lay 'em down
Bitch I feel like I’m the King of California, I need a crown
Bitch I’m a stoner, fuck an eighth I need a pound
My Choppa made of memory foam, how it lay 'em down (Yeah)
And my Glock got a boner, he go to town
He can make it hot like Arizona when he around (Boom)
I spit it sick, like pneumonia in front a crowd
I feel like the King of California, I need a crown

[Bridge]
Bitch (Ay)
Bitch (Ay)
Bitch (Ay)
Bitch (Ay)
I said

[Verse 2]
I need a crown, you can put in on my head
I got bread like a bakery, you actin' like a fed
How you talk to everybody like you friends?
My best friend a pad of paper and a pen
'Cause I can tell him anything and he don’t tell a soul
I’m homies with the stick, but I keep it on the low
And I love the microphone, 'cause he listen to me go off
I’m at your home knock, knock, knock, kickin' in the door
Bitch bow (Bow, bow)
[Verse 3]
Shootin' like a movie
I go gorilla, give 'em black eyes, make em 2D
Boowee
To this shit, I ain’t a newbie
I write a song, rap it and I’m loadin' up a new beat
It’s over
Trick or treat like October
My choppa tryna' send 'em up to the Mars rover
Bitch
But he don’t want no smoke like he sober
Watch how you talkin' to the King of California
Bitch, bow (Bow, bow)
Lay 'em down, lay 'em down, lay 'em down

[Chorus]
Bi-Bi-Bitch I feel like I’m the King of California, I need a crown (Yuh)
Bitch I’m a stoner, fuck an eighth I need a pound
My choppa made of memory foam, how it lay 'em down
And my Glock got a boner, he go to town
He can make it hot like Arizona when he around (Boom)
I spit it sick, like pneumonia in front a crowd
I feel like the King of California, I need a crown

[Outro]
Bitch
(Hahahahaha)
(Yeah)