[Verse 1: YSR Gramz]
We like Cash Money Records, bitch, we living legends
Brodie walked in the stu with a Smith and Wesson
Me and money go together, bitch, that's my best friend
Hit his ass with that [.?], bet he learn his lesson
Is you gon' let me fuck or not? Bitch, I'm tired of texting
My n***a balling out in [?] like [?]
Who can point me to them boes? N***a, I'm investing
I'm a No Limit soldier, but I'm not from [?]

[Verse 2: Louie Ray]
The streets had me in so deep, that I ain't have an exit
N***a, before I rapped, I used to have a necklace
I just got fivе boes seeled to go to Texas
Doing a hundrеd talking on the phone, but I ain't driving wreckless
I'm pouring [?] mixed with [?]
I was tryna tell you I was busy, but she call me texting
40,000 cash on me normal, I don't think I'm flexing
Cali weed ain't cheap as n***as thought, that's whhy I [?]
Jump out the [?] switch power [?]
Threw the stomach fat in her ass, it's not an injection
I'm tryna count some more money tonight, this shit an obsession
I'm tryna book [?] the whole night, we need two sessions

[Verse 3: YSR Gramz]
The boes just landed at the crib, I just caught my blessings
My n***as just slid on the opps, they was in the [?]
Treat his ass like a football, get him intersepted
So many guns in my crib, hard to choose my weapon
In the booth with [?] smoking hundred 7's
If I blow this whistle at you, you gon' go to Heaven
Don't try to preach to me, n***a, you is not a revrend
My n***as got Glocks, chops and opps and Smith and Wessons
Seen an opp in the stu, we finna end the session
I'm finna fuck her one time, then she get neglected