[Part 1]

[Verse 1]
M-my n***as rockin' that Prada-Prada (Mix it up)
You can get killed for a dolla-dolla
Give a fuck what you said, I'm like Rada-Rada
Yeah, and that n***a got popped like a perc
Get put on a tee, now what size is yo' shirt?
I'ma get rich, yeah, I feel like 50
Brand new bitch, she keep wearin' Balenci', Balenci', Balenci', Balenci', Balenci', Balenci', Balenci', Balenci', Balenci', Balenci', Balenci'
I'ma get rich, P Diddy
Bad lil' hoe, just give me that kitty
If a n***a get shot, then he look like Ricky (Yeah)
And my n***as gon' level up
I might ride in that Benz or the Tonka truck
Sippin' purple, that icky, that doublе cup
And my n***as, we made a wave
I said fuck thеm n***as, they'll die if they play
Bit-Bitch, I put that on my grave
I'm a smart ass n***a, I ain't failing my grades
Wh-Wh-Wh-Whole lotta lean, yeah, whole lotta Wock'
I'm in LA, where the sun don't stop
Bitch, I might cop me a drop
N***a run up and he, uh, might get popped
Pop, pop, pop, pop, pop, pop, pop, pop
I swear, n***as not as real as me, man
Real shit, man, forreal
[Part 2]

[Chorus]
Young n***a, blick 'em (Uh)
Silly rabbit, you can't trick me (Uh)
Three Glocks, n***a, so picky
And I told my n***as, I gotta go get 'em (Yeah)
My n***as shoot like Dirk, talkin' Nowitzki

[Post-Chorus]
You know my cup too pissy
And look at your bitch, she miss me
I told her to hit it, can't give her no dick, 'cause I'm busy
I ain't talkin' no Yeat, yeah that's twizzy
Your bitch said she hot dog, n***a, I'll give her the glizzy
Fuck a bitch, talk about Biggie
Lil' twizzy gon' spin on his block, like a motherfuckin' fidget
Lil' n***a run, I ain't talkin' for President
Taliban, bitch, we takin' your residence
And I swear my lil' broad, she came from heaven, man

[Verse 2]
Run up, gon' blick him, make sure you hit him
I tote my rocket, the clip, it's gon' dick him
Look at my attire, it's Rick and some denim
Look at my whip, bitch, the windows are tinted
Don't go and comment and post your opinions
She gon' get slayed, she swear that I'm sinnin'
We don't cop matching fits but I swear that we twinnin'
[Chorus]
Young n***a, blick 'em (Uh)
Silly rabbit, you can't trick me (Uh)
Three Glocks, n***a, so picky
And I told my n***as, I gotta go get 'em (Yeah)
My n***as shoot like Dirk, talkin' Nowitzki

[Verse 3]
She ain't had no bread, so I paid for her titties
Texako, my bitches strip in the city
And I walk in the club, I don't got my blicky
I don't got my-
"We really up! On god"

[Post-Chorus]
You know my cup too pissy
And look at your bitch, she miss me
I told her to hit it, can't give her no dick, 'cause I'm busy
I ain't talkin' no Yeat, yeah that's twizzy
Your bitch said she hot dog, n***a, I'll give her the glizzy
Fuck a bitch, talk about Biggie
Lil' twizzy gon' spin on his block, like a motherfuckin' fidget
Lil' n***a run, I ain't talkin' for President
Taliban, bitch, we takin' your residence
And I swear my lil' broad, she came from heaven, man

[Outro]
Runner gon' blick him, XD gon' hit him