[Intro: CEO Trayle]
Ayy, ayy, let's go
4

[Verse 1: CEO Trayle]
Yeah, I just left the lean man house, finna spin back around and take him down
These n***as pussy, they feel safe around
Let me know if that safe around
Ayy, if you gettin' some paper, I might stay around
Ayy, six rings just like Robert Horry, I'm an LA Laker now
They just don't know I'm finna turn this bitch to Capertown
I throw all the parties, get the problems straightened out
Thirty clips be hangin' out
Ayy, ayy, boobies on them 7.62s, boy, don't make me take 'em out
Dicks on them glicks, n***a, my chips quick
Before you suck this dick, bitch, wipe off that lipstick
Your ex was on that shrimp shit

[Verse 2: Warhol.SS]
I can't be your next, I see you tolerate that goofy shit
My lil' ho from the D say she want dick and I say, "Yeah, I'm hip"
Scoreboard, it's a blowout
Walked inside this bitch with two Glocks, brought four out
It's a bomb squad waitin', they done heard I brought C4 out
I can't stand no ho who ain't got crazy mouth
I rock thousand-dollar jeans just to ash on 'em
I drive the Scat' like a truck, we gon' smash on 'em
Cuban link cost a n***a coupe, check the clasp on it
Red in my fuckin' cup like I got a rash on it
He say he a trap star, he just cap hard
Thirty dollars spent on club pop, watch me make it dark
Glock 9, call it Iron Man, bitch, I'm Tony Stark
I done hit this 'Scotti way too hard, now I'm feelin' parched
[Verse 3: 2SKi]
If crackin' cards was a sport, n***a, I'm the MVP (No cap)
It's a thirty in this Glock, ain't no actin' tough with me
All that starin' in the club, that's how he end up on a tee (Bye-bye)
C4 said it's on the floor, gang made a hundred in his sleep
He quick to take a n***a out, turn an opp to make-believe (He gone)
Spent a twenty on this kit, you n***as can't compete with me
N***a drinkin' so much lean, think I'm havin' Wocky dreams (Damn)
Hit that lil' ho from the back, think she feel it in her spleen
N***as had all that lil' money, how the fuck you drinkin' green?
Say she hate me off that drank, think a n***a actin' mean (Sorry 'bout it)
BOA came with thirty, know a n***a wiped it clean
I be hatin' all them twenties, I can't fit 'em in my jeans