[Intro: YN Que]
Yop
(Ooh, Sav killed it)
Okay

[Verse 1: YN Que]
Damn, I just ran into a bad-ass Cuban bitch
And she pulled up with her friend, this bitch super thick
And she got her CPL, this bitch too legit
Fuck, brodie hit me up like, "I need another load"
Package came in, bitch, I'm shoppin' by the 'bow
I ain't gotta buy 'cause a n***a really grow
You need another bag, lil' n***a, let me know
Out here tryna flex, you gon' get your shit took
I ain't gotta shoot, hit a n***a with a left hook
Just banged a hoop—
Just banged a hoop, n***a, I ain't talkin' Westbrook
'Member days we ain't have a ride
Brodie pulled up in that Scat, it caught me by surprise
In they bity with a pew-pew, catch a homicide
I bе so goddamn high, feel like I'm finna fly

[Verse 2: YN Jay]
Alright, you gon' do it like that?
I just rode past— ahh
Caught him slippin' on thе sidewalk, now he finna die
I get high as hell, I got wings like I'm finna fly
I just mixed the Gucci with the Louis, got me feelin' high
I be feelin' fly
I do not eat by myself, I'ma split the pie
How you wanna make it to the top, but you won't even try?
Bitch pulled up with a coochie and a pen, got me finna sign
Bad bitch asked me how I'm doin', got me feelin' fine
I don't know how long I got left, got me feelin' time
Beecher n***a, I be throwin' B's like I'm in the Heights
Thought about some shit before I said it like I'm finna lie
I just jumped off an airplane, but I'm feelin' fly
I just jumped— yeah
I can jump from the tree to tree like I'm finna glide
[Verse 3: Don Perrion]
How you n***as wanna play it? Let's do the hard way
Back in school, we was fingerin' bitches in the hallway
These n***as been actin' like hoes, just with a bald fade
Don't hop in my DM if you ain't got no pape'
I'm the motherfuckin' ruler, but I ain't Blade
I'm the rapper and the shooter, I go both ways
I be beatin' bitches down, look 'em in they face
I hope this rap shit pop before I catch a case
Pop a n***a, then flee to another state
Prayin' that I make it 'cause I know I got what it takes
Back in the city, homesick, it's the murder rate
Sick n***as can't go to they cribs, we know where they lay
Don't make me bring out them apes and I ain't talkin' Bape
Cuz went to Texas and dropped fifty on Johnny Dang
I can bet my fuckin' life on it, y'all ain't takin' chains
In a foreign with no fuckin' ceiling like Lil Wayne