[Intro: Hotboy Wes]
Right
What the fuck, n***a?
Hold on, you fucked up
Ayy, ayy, this what them real n***as ride to
This what they wanna listen to (This what they wanna listen to)
Ayy, they want that trench baby shit, n***a (They want that trench baby shit, n***a)

[Verse 1: Hotboy Wes]
Really from the slums, mama too strung to raise me (Raise me)
Granny had to take me, thank God she had some patience (Patience)
My apartments crazy, neighborhood like the Matrix (Fah, fah-fah)
Bummy out of booking, sell her pussy as a waitress (Yeah)
Yeah, that's my lil' baby
Street n***a, don't need to pay it
Bitch, you keep on hidin' from me, that's gon' be your people layin'
Run down on your man like I was Gucci Mane on Jeezy ass
Trenches think I'm hard, calling me god like I was Jesus' dad
Five door, hoover-groover flag
Bandana around the mag'
I'm tryna buck lil' boy ass, ain't tryna shoot up no pad
N***a, I ain't tryna waste no ammo on no n***a house (House)
I'ma go get bae and get the date to bait 'em out (Out)
Before I started totin' Carbon, I been a sergeant
Ask the teacher about me, I been retarded since kindergarten (G)
I know n***as really robbin'
Tryna pull up in a 'Rari (Skrrt)
Bitch, you know I'm really from the—, really up out them apartments (Ugh)
Granny sick and senile, diagnosed her with glaucoma
She gon' have a seizure if she see I got this Glock on me
Boy, I got my block rollin' (Woo), tryna be a yacht owner
Really be in my feelings 'cause my mama in the streets and my daddy was off in prison
[Chorus: Hotboy Wes]
Fifth grade graduation, my mama never attended (Nah)
Juvenile detention, wishin' that I get called for a visit (Ayy)
I ain't never fold up
Other n***as' mama came, my never showed up
I was raised 'round roaches, dreamin' 'bout a Rolls Royce (Uh)
These n***as just playing gangster, we really ain't have a choice (Nah)
And she like the way I word it, my verbal makin' her moist (Mine)
Lose the laws when I'm swervin' like a turtle to a horse (Skrrt)

[Verse 2: BigXthaPlug]
Ayy, six hundred lever, never felt the friction
N***a reach out for my chain, but he go missin'
Before all of this rap, bitch, I was quick to go on missions
Pops was penitentiary livin', I was out robbin' and stealin'
Mamas still up in 'em 'jects, didn't wanna move 'cause that shit in her
Plus she know how I get down, she out the way, her son a sinner
What you know 'bout masking up? Six-hundred shots up in that rental
I just aim quick, before I did, but them folks swear it was my mental
Now we so fuckin' up, I ain't gon' lie, this shit ridiculous
Made a fifty in two days, I think I might go see the dentist
Call up Johnny, what's the ticket?
Drop a twenty, now I'm hittin'
N***a reach, I bet I split him
I don't know why n***as play like I ain't come from out them trenches, where it get vicious
N***as speak good on the 'net, but don't know how to stand on business
N***a disrespect the set, then it's gon' be a lot of killings
Smoke a squitter, easy stretch 'cause truth be told, I'm fightin' demons
And bitch, we shop at Neiman's
All my bitch's shit come from Saks Fifth
She could've got some titties, but she say she want a ass lift
There's money in my pockets, got me walkin' like I'm bad built
Don't think that you're a stepper, send his ass home with a bad limb, ayy
[Chorus: Hotboy Wes]
My daddy was off in prison
Fifth grade graduation, my mama never attended (Nah)
Juvenile detention, wishin' that I get called for a visit (Ayy)
I ain't never fold up
Other n***as mama came, my never showed up
I was raised 'round roaches, dreamin' 'bout a Rolls Royce (Uh)
These n***as just playing gangster, we really ain't have a choice (Nah)
And she like the way I word it, my verbal makin' her moist (Mine)
Lose the laws I'm swervin' like a turtle to a horse (Skrrt)

[Verse 3: MoneySign Suede]
Turn a demon to a Christian, make him realize he got feelin'
I was locked up, missin' Christmas, my bitch flashed me out a visit
I'm a trench baby, you isn't, n***as be hatin' on my ambition
If you see me, all this shit's on, don't pay attention, mind your business
All money gon' wire them digits, why these n***as wanna fit in?
N***a, we came from licks, swear you ain't jiggin' how we jiggin'
I be tryna keep my cool, but these n***as just be buggin'
N***a, I'm a prison issue, if I don't get him, I'ma get his cousin (On God)
Ayy, free all my homies fightin' home-runs
N***as be rapping 'bout bodies, but they don't got none
Ayy, my lil' homie gon' get the job done
I'm with Hotboy, n***a, you not one (You not)