[Produced by JCanan Beats and Cartier Jones]

[Verse 1]
Bandanna on my face, I swear they thought I was Young Pappy
That Day Day hit my lungs, my double cup I’m sippin’ Alex
Designer everything, from head to toe, bitch I be stylin’
And all my n***as be wildin’, yo’ n***as ain’t got no mileage
Fuck you thought?
I go hard for my team, what the fuck you mean?
This Glock 40 came with a green bean
Turn any n***a that want beef into a string bean
No more ning things
All we tote is big shit, all we blow is big shit
Pull up on the side of ’em n***as, now they ass got to riding like they ass can’t drive stick shift
All my n***as crack fours, and where I come from, you can’t trap until you learn how to blow a pole
Out here in the streets, n***a anything goes
I done seen some of the realest n***as get exposed, now they ass just some hoes
Just like the opps, always hiding, n***a everyone knows
Think they got balls though, every time we try to make some shit crack
We never find they ass like war, though
Rat-a-tat-tat, that's the sound of my gat
I ain’t no coward, n***a, I’on hit you from the back
I approach you from the front
Head shot, face shot, next shot, send a couple more shots at his chest
Someone lay that boy to rest
They trynna wake his ass up, but he gone, please let that man rest
12 on our ass, cause they can’t make arrests
We just make ’em come around and come clean up our mess, when we fuck shit up

[Interlude]
Them old ass Mikes wit yo’ broke ass
I done came a long way from having no cash
Now my whole team got more bags
R.I.P Young Pappy, Numba 6, 2 Pap!
Wait hol’ on

[Verse 2]

Two of everything, hoe we be fucking shit up
Couple mouth chops, I bet that be shutting shit up
Played the hand I was dealt with, it was nothing but trust
I seen n***as get rich, I seen n***as get slumped
I'ma ’bout that life, n***a
You don’t wanna gamble, you ain’t bout them dice, n***a
I seen that n***a get up out this life
N***a still got whacked ’cause he had them stripes, n***a
And they say they gon’ kill me
Before you do that, that n***as gon’ feel me
You can get ’em killed for free, ain’t gotta pill me
I be gettin’ bricks on bricks, you think I'm building
Shoot his ass six on six, you think we filming
We just trynna catch more bodies and get a million
Yo bitch wanna suck on dick for some Brazilian
Then go home and kiss her man and her children
Petty bitch, and I ain't wit’ none of that petty shit
Turn a n***a brains into spaghetti when that feather spit
You would think I’m Freddy in yo dreams, n***a
Tell ’em what you seen, n***a
When them chops hit yo ass, I'll have you scream, n***a
Put his ass on a shirt, n***a and on a screen, n***a
Put his ass in the dirt, n***a and on the sleeve, n***a
When you hear how we did ’em, you ain't gon’ believe n***as
Nah mean, n***as?
So if I wasn’t scared, man, I'll give you that
Boy, I'm still in the streets, n***a, I'll meet you there
Boy, they took my lil’ bro, I wanna see a n***a brains hit the floor
Have his mama try and pick the shit up'
And what's left, we just smackin’ that shit
And I ain't no dink n***a, but I ain’t catchin’ no bitch
R.I.P Young Pap, who those legend exist
Head shot, he seen the light, now he trynna resist

[Outro]
See that light, n***a
Uh-huh, die slow, pussy
R.I.P Young Pap
Numba 6, Dirt, and 2 Cups
2 Pap