[Chorus:]
Doggybone mad I boned his bitch doggy style
Bro like Michael Myers with that bitch, he'll walk 'em down
Catch him in the Scatty, bet the Track'll hawk 'em down
Double coffee cups, you know it ain't no coffee 'round
I been running up that shit, got me exhausted
Pull it off that read and writer and emboss it
Think I'm balling up a fist, oh he done lost it
Brodie got the drop and spinned the block 'till he was nauseous

[Verse]
All this motherfucking za smoke got me finna pass out
Bitches used to do me bad, all my bitches bad now
Pushing foreigns back to back, used to play the background
All I hang around is Pits, you know it ain't no rats 'round
In the ZO1, I'm doing figure eights
Make her eat a dick, it ain't no dinner dates
I be leaving bitches with the bitter face
Every single time I call up bro, he on the interstate
Big body S550, AR got a Mickey
I don't think I know what fighting is, you know I got the blicky
Any time you see some styrofoam just know it's Wock we sipping
Franklins in my Mike Amiri denim, boy your pockets empty
556's, .308's, .223's, how you tryna play?
All this dogshit up in my pockets think the Ksubi denim constipated
Bro do magic, he'll wave a stick and turn the opps to patients
Fucking model bitches, scamming grannies, that's my occupation
SBDSM, bitch we some stars, we like a constellation
Christian Dior in the booth, I'm preaching to my congregation
In LA, X on my back, bitch I'm fly
I was getting money, you was somewhere getting high
Bitch I'm getting off, the opps barely getting by
I just find it crazy how these bitches play you
I be with them sharks, he in that water, we gon' fish filet 'em
Blowin' Turtle Pie, the gang 'bout higher than the Himlayas
I be in that motherfucking lab, think I should get an apron
[Chorus:]
Doggybone mad I boned his bitch doggy style
Bro like Michael Myers with that bitch, he'll walk 'em down
Catch him in the Scatty, bet the Track'll hawk 'em down
Double coffee cups, you know it ain't no coffee 'round
I been running up that shit, got me exhausted
Pull it off that read and writer and emboss it
Think I'm balling up a fist, oh he done lost it
Brodie got the drop and spinned the block 'till he was nauseous