[Intro]
Ayy, all black
Whoa, yeah, uh

[Chorus]
I came wit this shit, boy, it's hard to tell, (Hard to tell? Uh)
Gucci rough print, wit the Louis belt, (Yeah)
I came wit this shit, boy, it's hard to tell, (Uh)
Gucci rough print, wit the Louis belt

[Verse]
Trust me, boy, I wouldn't trust me
Get up off the block, 'fore this shit get real ugly
All black forces, I swear nobody above me
Talkin' all that shit, butcho thottie really love me
I like robbin', I like shootin' people too
If you talk mad shit, choppa hitchu inna tooth
I-I-I-I be smokin' gas, lit the blunt inside the booth
Up inside this jawn, I got gas pack boof, uh
I just lit the blunt inside the vip, holup
You a bitch, you ain' wit the shit, holup
I pay fifty thou for this fit, holup
Gas pack, hittin' like a bitch, holup
When you hit my shit, jus know that it can hit back
Choppa gotta lotta motha-mothafuckin' kickback
Hoe hit my line, ain't get shit back
C-Choppa finna splitchu like a kit kat

[Chorus]
I came wit this shit, boy, it's hard to tell, (Hard to tell? Uh)
Gucci rough print, wit the Louis belt, (Yeah)
I came wit this shit, boy, it's hard to tell, (Uh)
Gucci rough print, wit the Louis belt