[Verse 1: Big Quis]
I got 10 'round my neck, 20 on my wrist
Fuck the record label, they ain't help us out with shit
The local radios don't play none of our hits
But somehow we still made it to the Billboards bitch
Just got off the phone with BMF [?]
He told me do my thang , don't lay up, stop on the gas
Atlantic don't know I'm that n***a, this shit makin' me mad
Ain't nobody on this earth gon' stop me getting cash
My bitch bad as hell, body portions so properly
Switching lanes in the Range Rover Autobiography
Not a goon but in Detroit dawg, this how you gotta be
N***as robbing so I shot 'em
All the gangsters so proud of me
You not a OG to me just cause you old
You lost the G letter on the very moment you told
Versace robes and my bitch cooking on [?] stoves
Don't no nobody talk more shit than Big Quis on the globe
On the day we got signed, we caught a 10 murder case
It's a motherfucking shame how much Michigan hate
Fighting for our freedom, they was tryna send us away
We paid lawyers, we can pay for no radio play
In the 'burbs where I stay foreign wrist what I stir
Going dead broke again, the only thing that I fear
I can't blend in with the industry, them n***as is weird
Get a couple dollars, then they change the way they appear
I'm a Detroit n***a, Cartiers for life
Oh shit there go some hoes, let me throw on my ice
Last year we did the black cars now it's the white
I started all this god shit, real n***as don't lie
If you look in my eyes, you can notice I'm focused
Life is not a game but my pockets filled up with tokens
You ain't good in every hood, you just a dick sucker
I'm through with y'all, listen to my Billboard Brother
[Verse 2: Payroll Giovanni]
From a broke n***a to a rich n***a
From a dope dealer to legit n***a
Just tryna make some M's and stay away from all you bitch n***as
Vrooom, vroom my whip dippin'
In a big room with two thick bitches
You small time, I [?] different
We made mills, you can't sit with us
I used to hustle 'round the block on Evergreen
Now I got the nicest house my family ever seen
Just tryna raise my son to be way better than me
Cause it's nothing but drug dealers on his family tree
I'm in the coupe, navigating to my destination
I used to vision this we in was in the kitchen weighin'
We juggle money on the floor, we leave the bitches waiting
Don't wanna hear no excuses, you can quit and save it
When I started rapping I ain't need financial backing
You need a sponsor but you getting money when you rapping
Shoulda took up acting that's what these n***as doing
When Instagram came out, the game got warm
I got a threesome 'round my neck, ice having a orgy on my wrist
It's hard to ignore that we the shit
They tryna count us and build alliances
My Turn and Stack Season hit the Billboards, they got on silent shit
When I was down, I just grinded didn't get impatient
You make excuses but complain about your situation
Why y'all intimated, we just hustlers
[?] then fuck you, Billboard Brothers