[Intro]
(A guy by the name of PepperJack Zoe)
(PepperJack Zoe)

[Chorus]
I run the routes like the city transit (Duh-duh-duh)
Just give the route to Trapland, he don't never panic
Stack that money to a comma, then you rubber band it
Just throw the alley to a youngin, watch a n***a slam it
Don't need a drop-top, I'd rather get it Panamera
I seen a square, then I knew just who I want to be
Say you a hustler, then it's best that you get close to me
Come to class, let me school you on that recipe
Been gettin' cheesе, so that really ain't a flex to me

[Verse]
Most thеse n***as sound real, they be so fake
Throw the doggy in the blender like a milkshake
I got exotic, plus you know that I got cheap weight
When I was down bad I couldn't even sleep straight
I'm steady havin' withdrawals, like, who you 'posed to be?
I seen them change, so I cannot let 'em close to me
I hear 'em talkin', but they all just some ghosts to me
Say the fetty all great, but that look dope to me
Cari got a dude slept off the Dom Ps
I could turn from what I had to a nine-piece
Bust down that plain Jane on a timepiece
Traphouse out West, I'm grindin' out East
I could talk numbers with you all damn day
On the grind twenty-four, I'm rockin' Dolce
Keep my poker face on, but, I don't play
I'm at the dock just like a pirate, this a boat day
Saks Fifth, I hit a million on the weekend
I can see that he an actor, he just pretend
Cartier for my vision, he got cheap lens
Couple n***as couldn't swim in that deep end
Couple n***as went left, still got right
Now I board the jet first like top flight
Remember fleein' and eludin' from them cop lights
Sunday nights, we was clubbin', that was chop nights
You was nowhere to be found, you was never 'round
Got zips, QPs, and a couple pounds
.223s, .308s, 5.56 rounds
Knock your ass out of bounds, you won't get found
The right press I'm doin' on them black nights
Ski'd up, know we addicted to that night life
Dressed up for T like I represent that bike life
Best to go and grab that [?][1:55]
[Chorus]
I run the routes like the city transit
Just give the route to Trapland, he don't never panic
Stack that money to a comma, then you rubber band it
Just throw the alley to a youngin, watch a n***a slam it
Don't need a drop-top, I'd rather get it Panamera
I seen a square, then I knew just who I want to be
Say you a hustler, then it's best that you get close to me
Come to class, let me school you on that recipe
Been gettin' cheese, so that really ain't a flex to me