[Verse 1: Blacka Da Don & Smiley]
Lost a lot of brothers to the streets, don’t ask me why my n***as stay with it
Left the kitchen with 9 O’s, but 4 O’s is how I came in it
Whippin’, whippin’ on the stovetop
Missin’, don’t need a whole opp
Got some killers from Regent Park, up to Jamestown, down to Stovetop
61st [?] I’m reppin’
Giuseppe’s and 90 I’m steppin’
Hit the club with at least three chains but for each chain I got a weapon
I got bad hoes on Instagram sendin’ DM’s with they titties out
I get so much love in the 6 side, when I do a show bring the city out
FSO, be my crew, n***a
Y’all already know what it do, n***a
First thing I did was ride out soon as I got my G2, n***a
No, this ain’t Chiraq, but I know shooters that’s fourteen
They ain’t worried ‘bout goin’ to school they likе, “Yo Blacks, I need more fiends”
My money walk out on thеm n***as
My money talk louder than them bitches
I use to rock clothes from Stitches
But now my kick game is ridiculous
I can’t spend no time on these bitches
I spend all my time chasin’ riches
I went from a half to a 4 to a 9 and I get all my bands out the kitchen
Blacka Da Don back in this bitch, man, finna blow word in the city now
Bad bitches tryna pay me now
I got Illy movin’ like Diddy now
MDM, FSO
Bad bitches and they finna go
All my n***as, yeah, they ‘bout that dough
I be runnin’ through the 6 with my woes
I feel like LeBron James ‘cause no matter what I do n***as still hatin’
But I don’t pay them n***as no mind ‘cause right now I got they bitches waitin’
I could text one like “Come here”
Text the other, she like, “Go where?”
And ion even show up, I’m posted in the Garden like a lawn chair
(Double G)
Word around the 6 I’m be poppin’ so n***as be hatin’ on me
(N***as hatin’ on me)
If you ain’t gettin’ no money who you got to blame, homie?
(The fuck you blamin’?)
N***as don’t think around me ‘cause I got the thing on me
(.9 on me)
Went two minutes straight on the beat, pass to Double B, homie
[Verse 2: Smiley]
OLN
My n***as are brazy
Opps sneak diss I don’t let it phase me
Tav’ in the hood tryna chase me
Henny in my cup sayin’ "Don’t chase me"
‘Cause of the shits a n***a go brazy
Fuck these bitches, I have no time
My Garden bitch is my fuckin’ .9
That bitch’ll ride anytime
It don’t leave me, stays on my spine
I’m in your hood like it’s fuckin’ mine
These n***as get amped off a bill chop
My n***a woke up to a stack chop
I’ll pop up in front of your door like [?]
Young boys shoot your head off your neck
We tryna catch a body so we bringin’ like ten
See me and gang in front of your rec’
Clear the whole place it only takes a sec’
My bean just called said he got his cheque
‘Bout to go OT, shut down the spot
Have all these fiends runnin’ back to the spot
These fiends trip out when I tell ‘em my age
I was in the trap fiends cryin’ for H
You ain’t shit if you can’t trap on your lonely
N***as ain’t droppin’ shit like my Rollie
Trap got kills, it’s me, H, Smokey
It’s me, H, Blunts, hit the .40
Bling or kief, n***a, I flip that
I’m trappin’ by the red store, yeah, Kit-Kat
Let the Mac beat off by a train tracks
Every n***a on the block got cook crack
Every n***a on the block got cook crack