[Intro: KrispyLife Kidd]
Keep my mouth closed, I don't fuck with feds
KripsyLife, n***a

[Verse 1: KrispyLife Kidd]
Me and [?] was in LA, we was busting heads
Get a knife [?] across his cheek, now he a [?] head
I kept my mouth closed like I don't fuck with feds
I did some bullshit, cut my hair like I don't fuck with dreads
That's why I got the braids now
I hit this bitch off my furniture, damn, me and lil' baby got the same couch
I'm in a two-story with two pools, we ain't got the same house
You was the man in high school but you a lame now
It's been a wrap for other n***as since I came out
Yo mama should've swallowed you when you came out
The chop make a beat against some ribs, you in pain now

[Verse 2: StanWill]
I'm about to box you in, Kidd, I ain't gon' lie, man
Huh, think I need a diaper, my Amiris, they bе full of shit
Cocky as the fuck but my bitch say I'm full of it
Lil' lever turn thе sports mode when I pull on it
T-double H-L, I'm with IUR
Yo whole gang could fucking skydive, they ain't fly as ours
Chunky-ass shoes, skinny jeans, I live life bizarre
If we catch him out, off his top, he ain't write a bar
I think yo bitch wanna be with us 'cause we the littiest
Dog Shit, big shitters 'round me, we the shittiest
I think
I'm a lil' man, tryna fight? I'ma blicky it
Up shit, we can talk shit, you can't humble us
Sixty hanging out the bop stick like a shuttle bus
It's Dior, Balenciaga, Yeezy if I Double Dutch
Really in the field, you set a play, you get your huddle bust
[Verse 3: KrispyLife Kidd]
They say it's cold in these streets, you better bundle up
When I shoot heat for the beef, he got [?] up
I'm out here tripping, not giving no fuck
You think StanWill gon' fight? Boy, you dumb fuck
I mean, you dumb as fuck
Pop a n***a at a wedding, he done fell into the punch
Only reason I did it is 'cause he was 'bout to clutch
I don't even fuck with Nick Cannon but I brought the drum
Smoked that n***a like a 'Wood, I got a fonto stuffed
Damn, I mean, I got a fonto tucked
Them ain't yo buffs, boy, them bitches big as fuck
Them bitches just might be a [?] them bitches fake as fuck

[Verse 4: StanWill]
Let the boys pursue, I'm off-road 'cause I'm Trailhawking
Hopping on our wave? We'll knock the fucking sails off him
The opps could never take me out, boy, y'all can't even spell "coffin"
Could never chase a bitch 'cause lately I been chasing mail often
Funny I'm with Kidd, I got grown man pape on me
Man, this bitch so fucking bougie, think she hate Coney
Bro done seen so many fucking keys, he could be Beethoven
We just got the drop, start the shoot or we gon' lay on it
Wouldn't even tuck a fucking shirt, boy, my chain hang
All this shit around, ShittyBoyz, yeah, that's gang gang
Check the Apple Watch, think it's time to the Plain Jane
Chop got three hundred fucking shots, yeah, bang-bang
[Outro: StanWill]
Huh, yeah