Intro

I got bros in the Broncs
I got friends in Atlanta
Getting sick of the talk
Know my name to Havana

Ima get you what you want
I'm a great to the grana
I'm gonna be at the front
I got bread like its manna

Chorus

Now we on top where you at, where you been though?
Pushing while I whop I won't stop for a benzo
Enemies are hot let 'em talk for a min' so
I can put 'em down fear of God young Lorenzo

Verse

They say he go C-R-A-Z-Y in the building
With the brodies on the floor and the wodies on the ceiling
Let me run a tap track, keep my g's in slack back
I said hold up Lil' momma gotta run this trackback
I had to play the players
I fake the fakers
I had to beat the best
I had to slay the slayers
I had to test the game even when I thought they made the traitors
I had to run it up up
When I thought they made the paper