[Intro]
(Relapse)
(Vinxia)

[Verse 1: StanWill]
All the tens I done hit, I can't even remember
Paid an arm just to eat, blew a sleeve on some dinner
All these icy pendants made your bitch think it's December
DSM, we the militia, don't think you a member
Scrollin' through these model bitches, who I'm tryna hit the most?
Martinis in bikinis, me and your bitch hit the coast
I was swingin' with my back against the ropes
All this fuckin' Christian in her closet, think my bitch the Pope
Chilly in these motherfuckin' streets, thе bullets hit his coat
He be rappin' cap a lot, hе in the booth with fitteds on
I do real estate, I send them .308s to hit his home
Words never hurt my opps, so that's why we keep sticks and stones
Pendants on my neck clankin', I got the bitches' necks breakin'
Turned the floor into a work of art, you know I step Maison
Glocky might do him foul, but this TEC flavor
Funny he thought he had all that heart, we left his chest vacant

[Verse 2: J1Hunnit]
I rock Chrome Heart cross, don't celebrate the Pagan
I heard he sweet and a pig, we make candied bacon
I'm eatin' ackee and saltfish, my girlfriend Jamaican
Bro'll pull a string with that mop, but we ain't watching Breaking
He don't need a sling for the chop, he shoot like John Matrix
I made a ten-ball in a fifty-dollar pair of ASICs
The Hutch make it hard for them to see, they might need some LASIK
Unc' beatin' white in the kitchen, but don't think we racist
Dropped a four of freaky T in my Arnold Palmer
The Trish taste kinda weird, it ain't like Alpharma
Red cheese, fifty-dollar bills, I come chicken parma
Blue notes, not Aruba money, and it's off the corner
New crops comin' in, I get strands from farmers
I'm not a little local artist, I'm a paid performer
I can tell I'm gettin' close, the sensations warmer
You n***as peewee ballin', I don't play Pop Warner
[Outro: J1Hunnit]
Shrimp-ass dweeb
1Hunnit
Dog Shit posse, Militia
Lab business