[Intro]
(It's a Wayne beat)
Yeah, Wayne, you tripped on this bitch
Yeah
I'm the reaper, I'm the one who chose your afterlife
Okay
(His name's Pablo)

[Verse]
I'm the reaper, I'm the one who choose your afterlife
Interrogate him, ask enough questions, he gon' tell a lie
Bro keep pourin' up fours like he scared of five
Glock like Medusa, leave him froze when it's in his eyes
Yеah, let's compromise
You can get this four for еight of zaz' for thirty-five
Gettin' out the store for forty-five, sellin' blicks and 9s
Take the Track' out, sellin' more whips than Randy Wise
Only time I'm showin' my respect is at your candlelight
I ain't boxin', if you tryna fight, then it's for your life
For the green, I'll twist your top like a fuckin' Sprite
Hella presidents in and out the house, but this bitch ain't white
If one of my n***as die, they ain't goin' on a shirt
We ain't goin' to make tees, we puttin' him in the dirt
P90 with the fifty-round, hit him where it hurt
Matter fact, I ain't speakin' that into the Earth
30 in my pocket, I'll pop it, but it's not a Perc'
Unc' trapped off the M since I was a little squirt
Never catch me lackin' 'cause I'm always plannin' for the worst
Voice of the reaper in my head, man, I think I'm cursed
Posted at the trap, Northside, where them demons lurk
I ain't miss it when I shoot, before rap, I was a hundred first
Posted all them guns on your story, but you never shoot
How the fuck you on the block, boy, but you never shoot?
Hit your top and run back to my spot, you a fuckin' goose
Hittin' the road just to get some drip, you a fuckin' goof
Lettin' a bitch play with your only stick, you so fuckin' loose
Doin' donuts in the middle the street, runnin' from the troops
Hangin' out the window, AR pistol with the top down
If this bitch like another picture, she gettin' knocked down
Bringin' 'bows down from the V, tryna touch down
'Noid as hell, ridin' with twenty-three up in Chi-town
Mama said, "Keep doin' what you doin', you gon' be in the slammer"
Gotta watch all your surroundings, you might be on camera
My brother stay low-key, and I ain't Thor, but I keep a hammer
Took the plastic off and poked her hole like a Kool-Aid Jammer
Every song that you hear me in, I'ma add a lesson
You old as hell with some young pape', your money adolescent
In the Scat runnin' from the jakes, had to pass the weapon
Drunk a four of green at nine and crashed at eleven
I got a Kclog 32 extended clip, I wish the best for ya
I mean Glock 23 with a pole, I got dyslexia
Ghost-ride the whip, thought he was ridin' in a Tesla
If I only get the neck, then my mans get the rest of ya
Only want the money, lil' n***as ain't takin' shit
Long K with an AR kit and banana clip
If I see an opp, give him fifteen, that's a banana split
When I'm fuckin' rappin', I be— huh
[Outro]
Yeah, look
I be fuckin' rappin'
Go to Vegas, get some pounds, put it in some plastic
Balenciaga, get this shirt from Prada, I be mixin' fashion
Legal money wasn't enough, I had to switch my tactics