[Intro]
Turnin' up on a Tuesday, yeah
Turnin' up on a Tuesday, yeah
Lil' bitch gone off the D'USSÉ (Xair, let me get that motherfucker)
Yeah, n***a, what?

[Verse]
We turnin' up on a Tuesday
And I got your bitch gone off the D'USSÉ
I'm gettin' paper, give a fuck about what you say
Take a n***a bitch, I'm in her mouth just like some toothpaste
I'm in a new coupe with a new bitch
I'm goin' stupid, we finna be too rich
They like, "Damn, Luh Tyler, I cannot, that n***a too lit"
Take a n***a bitch and dog her out, just call me Scooby
Know I need my pockets fat, Rick Ross shit
I'm a boss n***a so I need a boss bitch
Throw my dawg the sack, he gon' Randy Moss shit
I'm drugged out, n***as know I'm on that raw shit
I gotta put my n***a on, I can't get rich alone
I had to cut lil' mama off, I left that bitch alone
White boy, he got that gas, look like Post Malone (Yeah, yeah)
N***a got the city turnt, we finna get it on (Yeah, yeah, n***a)
Like, what it do?
This a bad yellow bitch, this ho look just like Pikachu
I ain't fuckin' with these hoes 'cause they love to pick and choose
I ain't chasin' after bitches, n***a chasin' after blues
Better go and get some paper, get the fuck up off the couch
When I open up my mouth and talk, n***a, bling-blaow
See a n***a comin' up, she wanna join the team now
N***a chasin' after paper, yeah, we gettin' green now
Smokin' on exotic gas, I ain't fuckin' with no lean
Baby girl, you not my lover, feelin' like I'm Billie Jean
These n***as undercover snake, man, them n***as really green
N***a hatin' on me, probably livin' what this n***a dream
Gas in a vacuum seal, n***a, you can't even smell
High as fuck with dark shades on, you can't even tell
Kiki blowin' up my phone, I let it ring just like a bell
Doin' magic in the booth, you'd think a n***a writin' spells (Yeah)
But I ain't writin' nothin' down
Say I'm snappin' in this rap, these n***as like the way I sound
N***a headed to the top, no, I ain't tryna see the ground
I just cut my bitch off, I sent her to the lost and found
N***as chasin' after paper, know we tryna run it up
When that check hit, n***a, we gon' put a hundred up
Gettin' hot up in the booth, got a n***a burnin' up
When we step up in the club, these n***as know we turnin' up
Like I'm playin' with a Ouiji board, I pull up in a Ghost
I'm with Lil' Justin turnin' up, I got your bitch front row
N***a, we don't need no kiwi, finna kick the front door
N***a, this exotic gas, we smokin' on that Runtz, bro
Know I'm snappin' on this rap, I don't gotta do no braggin'
And I got them racks on me, got a n***a pants saggin'
Had to cut the lil' ho off, she keep doin' all that naggin'
N***a say they fuckin' with ya but they really out here flaggin'
[Outro]
(Yeah, n***a, I don't do no braggin')
(Yeah, she keep doin' too much naggin')
(N***a, man, these n***as really flaggin')
(Yeah, yeah, ski)