[Intro: FTOS Twan]
(Damn, Wxmpy)
Okay

[Verse 1: FTOS Twan]
I don't know why these n***as think they gon' catch me slippin'
I got sixty on the Drac', I see the opps, I'ma get to trippin'
N***a said he ride with thirty-three, okay, Scottie Pippen
Lil' n***a said he hopped out on Twan, no you didn't

[Verse 2: GrindHard E]
Just dropped three cars, you think you shittin', but they all lemons
Lemon squeeze on the four-five, my guns all shoot different
Bro trippin', he bought a new crib just to use the kitchen
He told me, "This crib not for livin'"

[Verse 3: FTOS Twan]
Don't nobody want your bitch, that bitch through, she outta commission
N***a fucked up, you on my bad side, you done burnt your bridges
I be ridin' 'round with the Drac' on me, you can't catch me slippin'
Messy shit goin' back and forth, you won't catch me in it

[Verse 4: GrindHard E]
You will never know the bitch I fuck with unless you catch me with her
I just fucked her biological sister, I'm a [?][0:43] n***a
Bring me some honey Backwoods, I don't fuck with Swishers
I'm drunk off this pint of cough syrup, it's seven percent liquor
[Verse 5: FTOS Twan]
Big-booty bitch, I wanna fuck her and her sister
Bitch act like I couldn't fuck, so I hit her sister
Okay, I'm hittin' her from the side and she squirtin' like a water fountain
You said you hit the road, but have you ever hit for ten thousand?
Broke-ass n***a in the trap, steady shippin' ounces
Bitch-ass— bitch-ass n***a, I pop n***as, I don't shoot at houses

[Verse 6: GrindHard E]
Okay, let me make an announcement
Next n***a say he touchin' me body won't get founded
Put my lil' n***as on your head for less than a thousand
I'm gettin' tired of buyin' 'bows, I'm investin' in houses
Quit sellin' dope 'cause I make more money just talkin' 'bout it
I don't know if they love me or hate me, how they talk about me

[Verse 7: FTOS Twan]
If you gon' do somethin' to me, then don't talk about it
My head fucked up, all I rap about is droppin' bodies
I don't know if I was twelve or thirteen when I first thought about it
I think the jury believed me when I told them I was cleanin' houses
I can get into my mode and talk crazy and rap for some hours
You said you got it out the mud, your dirty ass need to take a shower
N***a, I'll turn you to a ghost, now you ain't got no power
You the type to go and kill your pops 'cause you weren't raised around him
[Verse 8: GrindHard E]
Nonchalant because my bitch out, guess I got anger problems
You the type to kill one of your fiends for less than eighty dollars
I'm the type to drink a whole pint and not save the bottle
Make a hundred thousand, blow it all and not save a dollar
'Cause I can make it back
Make a quarter-mill' in a drought with no strings attached
Eatin' good, ain't never been skinny but I'm gettin' fat
You might see me get it for the low, you still gettin' taxed