[Intro: Duffy]
N***a
Type of shit we on, bitch n***as know they not on that
N***a
(Reconboy)
Bitch (Run that back, West)
Yeah

[Verse 1: Duffy]
Fuck the tough talk, the uchies what impress me
I got the drop, I'm finna rock out, Elvis Presley
Too icy, all this water on me, grab the jet-ski
It's Jet Li and Jackie Chan kickin', thank you, Mei Ling
Clearly gettin' it, bitch, we winnin', they don't understand
Cold demons here, the city hate to see an avalanche
Another day up on the mud, I'm tryna blow some bands
Mud walking all through Neiman Marcus, seen a 'fit and bled

[Chorus: Duffy]
Another opp up in my DM, I'm like where he at?
Thе type of shit we on, thesе n***as really ain't on that
N***as gay, they makin' California look bad
Pop it to me like he stupid, think I booked after him
Shit, n***a
Another opp up in my DM, I'm like where he at?
N***a, bitch
The type of shit we on, these n***as really not on that
[Verse 2: BluePesos]
Sneaky threats about the team, he got booked after
.223s hit him in his chest, watch his soul shatter
Wait, huh, who doin' what? That was by plannin'
This a suit that'll compliment your new casket
She see these VVs bling blingin', now she fascinated
Why you let them n***as hype you up? Now your head deflated
I see uchies behind the door, I'ma Jackie Chan it
They love that lil' dance I do, I'm just used to winnin'
You's a freak, though, easy call, fundamentals
808s beatin' down his block, I'm playin' instrumentals
Ten thousand for the feature or you can just forget it
2022, you still broke? How? It's so simple

[Chorus: Duffy]
Another opp up in my DM, I'm like where he at?
The type of shit we on, these n***as really ain't on that
N***as gay, they makin' California look bad
Pop it to me like he stupid, think I booked after him
Shit, n***a
Another opp up in my DM, I'm like where he at?
N***a, bitch
The type of shit we on, these n***as really not on that

[Verse 3: Stoneda5th]
She believe in Jesus, but she callin' me her father
Pull up in the Benz, pop him up in his Impala
If we get shot, then only shottas on the roster
When the brodie got put on, turned to a monster
Talkin' bullets through his brain, no need for a doctor
Shut the back door
N***a come in through the front and get his ass smoked
Bring him to the deep end, we gon' snatch his soul
Roll his brother in a 'Wood since he tryna troll
Shittin' on the opps, it's never gettin' old
Bounce out with a hoodie, it wasn't even cold
Run my fade and put my Carti on
[Verse 4: R3 Da Chilliman]
Famous and rich, still on the block like I ain't worth nothin'
The slap got a switch on it, I'm tryna hurt somethin'
Bigger, smarter, so? Still get popped
Chunky diamonds like I don't know grown men watch
He don't got his own motion, he always need a play
I'm big ballin', blew your stash at Neimans today
Bands in every single pocket, I'm Mr. Chilli
I'm who they want, so I got bitches in every city
I'ma give him all these bullets like he asked for these
Six thousand on the 'fit, it's a masterpiece
N***a only hate my guts 'cause his boo got hit
He probably sip a lil' juice, but I abuse that shit

[Chorus: Duffy]
Another opp up in my DM, I'm like where he at?
The type of shit we on, these n***as really ain't on that
N***as gay, they makin' California look bad
Pop it to me like he stupid, think I booked after him
Shit, n***a
Another opp up in my DM, I'm like where he at?
N***a, bitch
The type of shit we on, these n***as really not on that, n***a

[Outro]
(Reconboy)
(Run that back, West)