[Intro - Future]
Talkin’ ’bout ya bussin’ heads, n***a you ain’t shot shit
Talkin’ ’bout ya bussin’ clips, n***a you ain’t
Oh you done and got all them guns and you ain't killed nobody yet?
How many times you shot that motherfucker n***a?
Ain’t nobody popped up dead
I thought yall n***as murderers
Shit

[Hook - Future]
Talkin’ ’bout you poppin’ tags, n***a you ain’t bought shit
Talkin’ ’bout a hundred bottles, n***a you ain’t popped shit
All you talk is banana clips, n***a you ain’t shot shit
Spending money on these hoes, n***a you ain’t fuck shit
Talkin’ ’bout you poppin’ tags, n***a you ain’t bought shit
Talkin’ ’bout a hundred bottles, n***a you ain’t popped shit
All you talk is banana clips, n***a you ain’t shot shit
Spending money on these hoes, n***a you ain’t fuck shit
Shit
Shit

[Verse 1 - Future]
Bought the ho a hundred pair of red bottoms
That’s a quarter milli on a hand job my n***a
Brrrllll! Stick ‘em
Fuck you and every n***a came with ya
Go and put a n***a on a picture
Go and put a n***a on a t-shirt
Back in the day when a n***a sell dope
I’mma slap ya daddy out of ‘em and then put ‘em in a hole
Glock 40 wooo
Turn up, turn up
My ambitions as a rider
Sippin’ on lean getting higher
N***a I’m a codeine buyer
No you not a foreign whip driver
Shout out to the shooters and the shooters on me
You never walk around with a lot of money
All ones fallin’ all out your pocket
When you hit ‘em in the head, can you keep it solid?
Bulletproof whip, we’ll blow it up
Like some raw uncut, don’t blow it up
Represent your gang, n***a throw it up
I don’t give a fuck where you at, n***a throw it up

[Hook - Future]


[Verse 2 - Future]
Catch a n***a slippin’ at the red light
With ya AK, let me see you shoot it
You a goon? You a goon? You a goon? You a goon?
N***a, let me see you prove it
Presidential Rolly and its floodin’
Love a n***a wrist when its shinin’
Hate a n***a wrist when its blingin’
So I went and added more diamonds
Hot Boy n***a, B.G
That’s the way these young n***as eat
Drinkin’ on syrup, can’t sleep
Keep it copacetic with ya partner
Buster n***as runnin’ around with real choppers
N***a what’s the color of them bottles? They ain’t gold
How you moving ’round with ya ho?
You ain’t even sticking to the code
Pimps up, pimps up, hoes down, hoes down
A pool full of money and I’m ’bout to drown
I’mma fool on the corner with that Bobby Brown
Button up suits at the Grammys
Had to turn it up for the family
Yes sucker-Freebandz bandit

[Hook - Future]