[Verse 1]
Look
Why do n***as lie about their money, wait what's up with that
Remember I was broke, that shit was funny
Now I got the racks
Brody he throw bullets at the tummy
Never at the back
Wipe a n***a nose if it's runny
Put 'em in a
Ffff
(Wait, wait, wait)
Look
Why do n***as lie about their money, wait what's up with that
Remember I was broke, that shit was funny
Now I got the racks
Brody he throw bullets at that tummy
Never at the back
Wipe a n***a nose if it's runny
Put 'em in a pack

[Verse 2]
I can't fuck with lame n***as, huh
Brody hit my phone, say he a grave digger, huh
Please don't ask bro name, no I don't name n***as, huh
Please don't play with gang, my bro got aim n***a
Huh, my bro got aim n***a
Big as forty, this shit might hit ya
Bitch, imma throw you a strike, I'm a pitcher
Blood in my gun, the drink in my liver
She want the dick, I come to deliver
I need the wood, don't pass me a swisher
My money good, my pack from Denver
All of my A-shit cold, December
She wanna ride the pole, a stripper
Uh-uh-uh-uh-uh-uh
Put your cups up
Me, I'm off that casa
Brody leanin' off that dumb dumb
If he talkin' hada, have him greetin' with them dumb dumbs
Shoutout to El Chapo, that's my brother
He the dumb one
[Outro]
It's the fucking Bandman, you heard?