[Intro]
Woah, woah
Yeah
(You aren't even a cool breeze for my man Taz)

[Verse 1]
Now, it's some n***as I don't know that's gon' blitz for us (No face, no case)
I sip the drank so much, I think I need a sippy cup
Just gave me head, what the fuck you tried to kiss me for? (Chill)
Grabbin' your shit, I called the Lyft, woah, woah
Shut up, bitch, I hit your friend, now you mad at me (Now you mad at me)
The smell take over the van, we gotta Glad-wrap it
Every day another ten, check the mathematics
Talk a bitch right up her out panties, then stab at it (Come here, come here)
Check my newest move, Prada top and Louis shoes
Beefin' with a group of funny n***as, they the Looney Tunes (Yeah)
Stay away from ho n***as with the moody moods
So many of 'em, sometimes I don't know who to shoot
Tris, the Wock', the red, the Quagen
Pour up and fall asleep, I'll see a bitch later
Caught the bag on Telegram, now I'm on Pier to the Schaffer
Treat a bitch like a pint, crack the seal, then taste her

[Chorus]
The Perc', no bars, the 30s, I don't take 'em
Two blunts out seven grams 'cause I'm rollin' up eighthies
But you ain't seen no Peter Griffin, I can tell that boy blakin'
If he ever sold some paper, we gon' fuck around and take it (Give me that)
[Verse 2]
If I put them boys on 'em, then it's over
Long taper, 'bout this business, my face look like I play poker (Uh-huh, yeah)
When it comes down this street shit, I play like I'm the Joker
'Bout that bread, get him toasted, he should've jumped inside the ocean
Wake up, runnin' to the money, I ain't even put on lotion
Trap hard, I ain't never goin' back to havin' roaches
Done fell off for a minute, I ain't trippin', I'm back focused (That's on Meech, n***a)
Rose Presi', I'm in California hoppin' out a lotus
Throwin' up too much motion, all my bitches be the coldest
Loudest n***a be the brokest, n***as thought that I was jokin' (Ha)
You ain't never got a bag pressed on, you had you rollin'
Scale 'em all for the O's, hundred babies, no strollers (I need it all)
This shit easy, n***a
Thousand of 'em on a bus, this a field trip (Wait up)
Blues on the trampoline, I make pill flips (Turn me up)
You want some fetty in your mix or that real shit? (Chill)
I got both, I'm just askin' what the deal is (Yeah)

[Chorus]
The Perc', no bars, the 30s, I don't take 'em
Two blunts out seven grams 'cause I'm rollin' up eighthies
But you ain't seen no Peter Griffin, I can tell that boy blakin'
If he ever sold some paper, we gon' fuck around and take it

[Outro]
(You recording, Smerf?)