[Intro]
Ayy, these n***as bitches (Ayy 38)
Mmm, ay, slime-slime-slime (Mmm)
(Dubba-AA flexin')
Today we gon’ bust’ out, Let’s go (Slime-slime-slime)
(I need to talk to Mike Laury, Hello? This Mike Laury)
What was you sayin’ n***a? That’s what you talkin’ ‘bout (Yeah-yeah)
(This is the sound)
Fuck that, rock out (YoungBoy)

[Chorus]
Heard this n***a actin' like he wanna see me
Hold up, bust his fuckin' cantaloupe and front street him in 3-D (Fuck, bitch, gang)
Put that dick on her and tried to slide, she said that “You can’t leave me”
I’ma real street n***a, fuck whoever that ain’t with me (Fuck)
They got D-Dawg with the tech, come out the back and spray 'round
The pussy bitch gon' feel the same aftеr he feel this K round
Don’t fuck around with n***as or these bitchеs, you can’t put the Bape don’t
Soon as I leave the city, zip 'em, stupid bitch, now lay down (Bitch lay down)
And I’ma real rich n***a, those broke hoes allowed
I’m just steady poppin' Percs and drinkin' ACT in Maybach [?] (Let’s go)
Had to tell that bitch “I been that”, I be loaded on that dog food
Tryna shift, but A.I. got the tricks, I bet I get 'em all
I say “Why these n***as throwin' shots?” D-Dawg say “Slatt”
Run down and ask 'em 'bout the tweet, like be exact 'cause you ain’t that
Not at Atlantic, I’ma be at Paramount up in the back
Ain’t gotta speak on who I wack, bitch, you gon' catch these thirty racks (On Dump)
[Verse]
Catch you tryna leave, cutta rip all [?]
He ain’t gang, he gon' leave 'em slump
We gon' bang 'till somebody done
So if you 'bout it, then tell me, we cross fire for forever
Retaliate and then I guess we all dyin' forever, I’m slime
I keep my gun up in my pants, who gon' tell me some'?
And I just want the bitch to flash and we gon' bust his ass
Every n***a with me crankin’ and they gon' bang, I’m tryna turn up bad
Why you talkin' while I’m leanin'? I know you mad 'cause you ain’t that
Fuck you bitch, I mean that, gettin' dirty with his clean ass
Let a n***a play right now, that’s on my momma, you should [?]
Bitch, you know we ‘bout the drama, keep the llama in my jean pant
Blow this bitch up like Osama, NBA flag with a beam, man

[Chorus]
Heard this n***a actin' like he wanna see me
Hold up, bust his fuckin' cantaloupe and front street him in 3-D
Put that dick on her and tried to slide, she said that “You can’t leave me”
I’ma real street n***a, fuck whoever that ain’t with me
They got D-Dawg with the tech, come out the back and spray 'round
The pussy bitch gon' feel the same after he feel this K round
Don’t fuck around with n***as or these bitches, you can’t put the Bape don’t
Soon as I leave the city, zip 'em, stupid bitch, now lay down
And I’ma real rich n***a, those broke hoes allowed
I’m just steady poppin' Percs and drinkin' ACT in Maybach [?]
Had to tell that bitch “I been that”, I be loaded on that dog food
Tryna shift, but A.I. got the tricks, I bet I get 'em all
I say “Why these n***as throwin' shots?” D-Dawg say “Slatt”
Run down and ask 'em 'bout the tweet, like be exact 'cause you ain’t that
Not at Atlantic, I’ma be at Paramount up in the back
Ain’t gotta speak on who I wack, bitch, you gon' catch these thirty racks (Bitch, catch that)