[Verse 1: Slimmy B]
N***a
When I touch down in your city have that bag right
Bro just hit a sucka with that K, that was last night
Glock 23, Gen 4 with that flashlight
OG always told me, when I bust hold that strap tight
Million dollar n***a round this bitch, I ain't average
Got some million dollar n***as round me but they ain't rappin'
Six hundred for a zip ask them guys, we ain't cappin'
Bitch I'm tryna ball in every way like Bo Jackson (Lil' N***a)
Yeah I love that Benz, but that Hellcat the fastest
Yeah that bitch cute, but my main she the baddest
Four Five with that hit stick, but this ain't Madden
Drop thirty, grab another stick and keep blastin'
Been thugin' since a youngin', boy this shit ain't new to me
Dick turned a bitch crazy, she like, "What you do to me?"
In the trenches wit' the apes, so my n***as moving mean
Fuck suckas, rip the thugs, and forever twos and threes (N***a)
[Verse 2: DaBoii]
This shit going for the high now, you can't get this shit for free
Baby like she got a baller but ain't getting shit from me
Yesterday I got so high thought I was sitting from a tree
Who woulda thought this bitch could rap, she got to spittin' on the D
Dreams of being at the top but yeah I know it's gon' take time
I see them boys took your belongings I won't let them boys take mine
And my brother brought his mask, I'm hoodie'd up like I'm Trayvon
I know that shit be sounding good but you can't trust them, they be lyin'
Fuck every one of the opps, can't wait to drop 'em all
Me and brodie bro just matched a four, I still ain't nodding off
Your bitch don't even neck you, when I swooped I had her lockin' jaw
And we can put the hands down, let's get some shots involved
Bottle wars up in the club you know them shots involved
Hell no I ain't funkin' wit' no rats, y'all getting cops involved
I peeped the knife behind my back, I wasn't shocked at all
Like I'm traveling with this bitch, no I won't drop the ball
When that Glock got to spittin' n***as thought it was a AR
I can make his wifey drop her drawls just off the faith card
You can spit a hundred, I'll still rip 'em off for eight bars
Bitch I'm like Kobe in this booth, I'm who they can't guard
And these baggies going for the low so come and cop you one
Pray I'm not a victim, dang I'm sick, I damn near shot me one
Your pops is not a gangsta, he a rat, you like Tekashi son
She don't want a perky or a xan she want a oxy, huh?
[Verse 3: Moneybagz Buzz]
Dope fiend ass bitch
Hey, bought the coupe then I crashed it
Made 30k the next day it's in the past tense
As for them broke n***as askin'
Six hundred dollars in my cup, I can't pass it
Hey, Neiman Marcus in to fashion
I'm a boss you lil' n***as peasants, different classes
Seventeen, had thirty in my mattress
I done lost it all on the road taking chances
Ayy, fuck the virus, start shooting he get close to me
Ain't want the bitch, told Jody get the ho for me
It's crazy how everybody in my phone have a forty piece
Knowing if I went broke they wouldn't notice me
Ayy, they send the Buzzlato out of town for the forty-three
He only uppin' five bands and that's broke to me
Glock 9, Gen 5, It's a 43
Smoke a n***a like a Runtz pack, he's a joke to me (Bitch)