[Intro]
(Fony wallace biatch)
(You're a goner)

[Chorus]
Miss one shot, wonder where my aim at
Reticle highlight on his head like a face tat
Shots gonna turn him into Soulja, how we crank that
Drive by 120 like we on a racetrack
My pockets get fatter, they look like Rick Ross
He talkin' stupid get slapped up, he look like Chris Rock
My meat gon' drag cross her face like she put on lip gloss
She throw it back to my song and post it on TikTok

[Verse]
That boy catchin' knuckles, throwin' punches like I'm Floyd
You know I'm swervin' lanes, causin' crashes out the Royce
Shawty suck me up, usе her mouth, lose her voicе
And my choppa shake him up, it gonna leave him Cameron Boyce
He gettin' chin checked in the pit, I've had enough
Shawty likin' how I taste, so, I sit it on her tongue
He get smoked like a vape, ho, we hittin' his lungs
Straight chillin' in the wraith, wanna street race or some?
Wanna street race or some, I'ma put him on the curb
I'ma let my weapon talk, I'ma let that .30 burst
This extendo on the Glock gonna double how it hurts
Yeah, I'm screamin' for some cash you still gotta go to work (Haha)
Uh, take my money out the ATM
Bought another chopper now I'm slayin' like its pay to win
Uh, yeah, I made a major M
Hittin' every shot like Kobe now the Lakers win (What?)
And my shawty so bad, she hittin' higher notes
13 shots hit him, man, we did him like Silento
Creepin' down the building, yeah, I know it's gettin' quiet though
Shoutout Tony Stark, bro I'm toting on an iron pole
[Chorus]
Miss one shot, wonder where my aim at
Reticle highlight on his head like a face tat
Shots gonna turn him into Soulja, how we crank that
Drive by 120 like we on a racetrack
My pockets get fatter, they look like Rick Ross
He talkin' stupid get slapped up, he look like Chris Rock
My meat gon' drag cross her face like she put on lip gloss
She throw it back to my song and post it on TikTok

[Outro]
(Fony wallace biatch)
I'ma turn him to a dead man
Straight headshots, hit his head man
Keep a glick tucked and a vest man
If he switch up, blow his head in
Yeah, someone had to let you know
I be lurkin' in the night check the window
I be wearing all black match the tint, ho
My hoe foreign she be matching with the whip, bruh