[Intro: B Lovee]
(Glo made that beat?)
Grrah
Grrah-grrah
Look
Fuck all the opps we gon'—
First n***a seen, we gon' click at his hat
Fed's on our ass but we makin' it—
Look

[Chorus: B Lovee]
Fuck all the opps, spin the front and the back
If we catch a opp lackin', we click at his hat
Feds on our ass but we makin' it tact'
Perc' bussin', I'm geekin', I cannot relax
He lovin' that thot but we hit in the trap
If he throw up a Y then he meetin' his death
I'ma tweak on a bitch if she droppin' the set
Pour a deuce in the Faygo, I sip for the stress

[Verse 1: B Lovee]
If he movin' wock then I'm bound to react
Bullets beat on his chest and then come out his back
Who lookin' for me? They know where I'm at
He come through my way, put the beam on his chest
I be tryna trust, she keep lyin' to me
Bitches out here, they be dyin' to meet
Everywhere that I go, keep the iron on me
I'm too deep in this shit, n***as plottin' on me
One in the head, heard they slidin' on me
You get caught at the light then I'm flockin the V'
I see the opps, I ain't coppin' a plea
I got new opps I been dyin' to meet
If he up it on me, then you dyin' with me
No, I ain't gon' play, I'm gon' up it and flame
N***as talkin' on bro, make him dance like he Dane
And he hit the floor, put some feets on his brain
I don't need to be broke to go snatch me a chain
I don't need me a pill to go put in some pain
Big Die Y, we ain't jackin' that gang
If he scream RPT then we lettin' it flame
We get muddy, we get tipsy
It get ugly, clips empty
So don't try to run 'cause on bro it get risky
He could run, if he run, I'ma turn him to Ricky
Get the addy, we right at his doormat
First one come to the door, make 'em fall back
Young shooters, I swear that they on that
They get it done and they spin in the four pack
[Verse 2: Dougie B]
Try to step in my shoes, that shit give you the chills
Got a mil' in my name, everything is a mil'
I ain't dissin' no more, labels tellin' me, "Chill"
So just read in between, give a fuck how you feel
If he mention the dead, bet he flyin' with Dub'
I ain't speak on the dead 'cause I really got love
Oh they linked in the back? Then the feature a dub
Now look
One false move then I blast in this bitch, like
One quick spin, yeah, we clappin' 'em quick
If you scream the wrong gang we ain't havin' that shit
Gotta stay on one side, gotta die with that clique
And when I come around n***as laughin' and shit
But when I'm not around they be chattin' and shit
Never settle for nothin', gotta keep it buggin'
If she try to line, I'ma die with the bitch
Grrah-grrah, bow-bow, bussin' and shit
GBGs, DOA, up in this shit
Ain't no love in this bitch, give a fuck who you with
Big EBK, give a fuck who you is

[Chorus: B Lovee]
Fuck all the opps, spin the front and the back
If we catch a opp lackin', we click at his hat
Feds on our ass but we makin' it tact'
Perc' bussin', I'm geekin', I cannot relax
He lovin' that thot but we hit in the trap
If he throw up a Y then he meetin' his death
I'ma tweak on a bitch if she droppin' the set
Pour a deuce in the Faygo, I sip for the stress
[Outro]
If they droppin' a O then we keep it official
Fuck Die Y, we gon' geek on this shit
Lets geek on the bitch
That's big Die Y, we gon' geek on this shit