[Intro]
(HD Beats)
Yo, look

[Verse]
4 pockets full way before the lick
Started on a 12 ton Z, now it's 36
Bro thinks I'm booky cah I ain't tryna sell him shit
Gotta peb this brick, on the next one I'll pattern him
Still felt broke when I made my first 100 thou
Phone does 3 bands a day, I need another now
Open shop anywhere, no one can tell me nout
Six figure n***a, a couple AK guns about
All I know is cocaine and crack smokers
Sleeping on my shitty sofa til' my backs broken
Whips stolen but the stick I paid cash
When I ran off on the plug I spent 10 on new waps
Stack of 50s to my bro and he didn't even lick that
New waps for my old beef, got racks now but I trap like I'm broke g
I ain't on this South Manny link up, that's not mе
Probably tell you pull up, you ain't leaving with your wrist watch
I'll make your crib a pitstop, samе n***as talking they don't wanna get me pissed off
When I'm hopping out g that's your Nokia and whip gone
Hiding gets your bitch touched
Bullets flying through window screens, my mums seen all of that
Can't tell me bout shits peak, mans been more than brass
Bullets flying this way, no brudda couldn't afford a mash
Ting comes with a nose, now it cost your yearly stack
And if there's suttin' on my wrist then it's probably stolen
Cos I ain't paying stupid money for no fucking Rolex
Them man need a job cos they ain't making progress
You're rapping bout a 9 my plug drops me a brick, no less
Fly it in pebs one line, no stress
Most these rappers ain't it, real life I know them
Your tings drilled, mine will slap off your head
And when I poked up shh I didn't catch what he said
70 for 2, sick of man making big drinks
2 bricks on a pebble phone g that's big dins
Still scummy, flexin' round here get your shit gripped
Real Jack boy but more time I'm in the kitchen
Real Jack boy making bands off the trap, if I sold you an O know I trampled on that
Change whips different week, same shit different pack
Feds raid where I live like I sleep where I trap
In and out of shitty cribs, working on the next Re
Bricks served with a passcode, that's TT
Girlfriends had enough but she don't ever tell me that, cos when I step in flannels I put Moncler on her back
Stains on my trackie b flying to the next shot
Up and down the A6, flying past best one
Always got drug money on me, I can't get stopped
I can't fall off I lost my line and built a next one
How can I fall off with all these cats on the road?
I ain't like them other rappers, I got packs on the go
Put it in the Pyrex soft came out stone
They be rapping bout my life, I should tax them for doe
I ain't asking my bro for no stick, I got beef local I need a pole where I live
Every other day I've got a bullet hole in my whip, ever brought a rental back with bullets holes in that bitch?