[Intro: Matt Ox]
EVILGIANE
SURF GANG
Yeah, yeah, yeah
Yeah, yeah, yeah
Yeah, yeah, huh?
Yeah, yeah, yeah

[Chorus: Pasto Flocco]
Hoes on my body like gnats
Send no lo', they can’t know where I'm at
What the fuck is the word? Me and my slatts
You don't wanna get hurt, better stay your ass back
Money slick like a perm, no slick back
Race car like derby, hope I don’t crash
In the back of the 'burban, the windows all black
And you know I don't lack, and you know that's a fact
When I thumb through the racks, that's the most I relax
Don't run up on me too fast, the whole gang got a strap
Told her, "Shut the fuck up," 'fore her boyfriend get slapped
It don't matter, fool, I see no lames tryna match
Got that stick in my hand like a wizard, try and run you get zapped
And them bullets they hot, they gon’ bubble ya back
Dirty opp n***as jackin’ the swag
Hell no, I can't let they ass catch me in traffic
If you think how I think, you on that
Two hands, ten racks each hand, that’s a light twenty thousand
Only if you thinking like that
N***as never on timing, better pack it, it's a wrap
[Verse 1: Matt Ox]
Yeah, yeah, yeah
Run up them racks
Drop that top and I'm going too fast
Talking that talk but I know it's all cap
Know it’s all cap, nah, you ain't on all that
You ain't got guap, you ain't got no rack
No, you ain't balling, you ain't balling like that
Double that flip but I triple it
I'm tryna get to the dividends
I'm tryna get to these Benjamins
You know I just been flexin' it
Yeah, I just been flexin' on them
And I got them stressin' it
New wrist, I been steppin' on them
Yeah, you know I'm steppin' it
In the club with no ID, yeah, you know I'm getting in
I got all this drip on me, you know I been setting trends
Yeah, you know I'm setting 'em, outside I'm not sitting in
If you need it then limit it, I'm not ever quitting this

[Verse 2: Pasto Flocco]
I swear to God, I'm not quittin' it
Make her panic, message and deliver it
Fuck a broken bond, I ain't fixing it
I'm only holding on 'cause I'm feeling shit
But they stupid as fuck, they illiterate
I don't know what they on so I gotta stay militant
Hundreds and fifties, no twenties and tens
All of them hoes want them Benjamins
[Chorus: Pasto Flocco]
Hoes on my body like gnats
Send no lo', they can't know where I'm at
What the fuck is the word? Me and my slatts
You don't wanna get hurt, better stay your ass back
Money slick like a perm, no slick back
Race car like derby, hope I don't crash
In the back of the 'burban, the windows all black
And you know I don't lack, and you know that's a fact
When I thumb through the racks, that's the most I relax
Don't run up on me too fast, the whole gang got a strap
Told her, "Shut the fuck up," 'fore her boyfriend get slapped
It don't matter, fool, I see no lames tryna match
Got that stick in my hand like a wizard, try and run you get zapped
And them bullets they hot, they gon' bubble ya back
Dirty opp n***as jackin' the swag
Hell no, I can't let they ass catch me in traffic
If you think how I think, you on that
Two hands, ten racks each hand, that's a light twenty thousand
Only if you thinking like that
N***as never on timing, better pack it, it's a wrap