[Intro: Louie Ray]
I'm sayin', like, nah, like, I been had the song, you feel me?
I'm finna send it to you now
What we doin'? Where the money?
Send me the money, send me the shit and let's do it, you tryna do it
I don't— I ain't— I probably— I (Alright)
I ain't just listenin' to be listenin', I ain't gon' lie (It's a Wayne beat, swear)
(Is this K Dinero?)
Yeah
If I don't get no— am I back? (Okay)
Am I back?
I think I'm back, n***a
If I don't get no paper, I'm back
Said I'm tired of spendin' pape', am I back?
I said I'm tired of spendin'— alright
If I say I ain't got it right— yeah

[Verse: Louie Ray]
If I say I ain't got it right now, you think I'm back broke?
Don't nobody laugh at what I say, is that a bad joke?
Bitch, you fresh out the shower, still stank, that was bad soap?
I'm finessin' shit so hard, I could sell soap
Don't just think I left the neighborhood, 'cause I could— alright (C'mon)
Don't just think I left the neighbor—
Don't just think I left the neighborhood, 'cause I'll still go
I walked out of Gucci with a hat like what I steal for?
Then walked out with the matching belt like I was still broke (Damn)
Shoot the lead 'til the strap break like how the steel broke?
I been out of Flint for damn near a year and n***as still broke
They must still know that they ain't fuckin' with me 'cause they still don't
I ain't gotta give out paper often 'cause I peel more
My people ain't fallin' right back off because I give more
Trish or green get my stomach right, Pepto-Bismol
Pop pink, gettin' stupid green like I'm Cosmo (Ayy, ayy)
Just pass the ball to me, Louie Kuzmo
Probably said it wrong, but that's just somethin' me and you know
Alright, okay, I'm gettin' higher
He only wanna talk about the numbers, think he wired
Damn, that n***a trippin'
Jumpin' out to do whatever got him hired
I think somebody owe me somethin', I just seen me on a flier
I ain't see him as the shootin' type, but he might be a driver
I ain't gotta know you good, but still can tell that you a liar
Bitch get frontin' four bricks of whoop-whoop without the buyer
I know two ways to lock the block down
Either sell fire-ass dope or weight through the town
Had to clean the wine off the table, now it's caked in the towel
I be still fuckin' hoes, but I ain't caked in a while
Lamb chops out of Truth, got a taste for 'em now
Lil D, Lil Green, got a case for 'em now