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"XXL Freshmen 2019 Cypher - Part 1"

[Verse 1: Lil Mosey & YK Osiris]
Goddamn, I feel like the man
Freshman of the year, I woke up like the man
Never poppin' Xans, 'cause they killin' me, damn
When you got the money, they be tryin' be your friend
Okay, this a lame ass beat
Walk up on your b*tch, my di*k eight feet deep
Why he talking out his lip? He know ain't sh*t sweet
Ayy, ayy, your block I'm gon' see
Ayy, ayy, bussdown, not regular face (What?)
Ayy, chasin' blues like DaBaby (What?)
Ayy, swervin 'round with Kate (What?)
Ayy, dropped out, no I didn't graduate man

[Interlude 1: Megan Thee Stallion]
Real hot girl sh*t, aah

[Verse 2: Megan Thee Stallion]
b*tch, I'm with your man, tryna see what the hit for
Post a new pic for a b*tch I'ma sh*t on
Big bag talk, make that little money get gone
I love cash, I be in the back, tryna get it on
I'm gettin' money, I ain't even mad atcha'
Rich b*tch sh*t, I'm might throw a bag atcha'
Speakin' on my name only make it sound better
Your n*gga in my DM, and he write love-letters
Say that booty looking softer than Hawaiian rolls
I be in the gym, I'm your girls' body-goals
Flexin' on the gram do it for the mad hoes
Everything I do they watchin' me like I'm on parole
Couple of these b*tches n*ggas on my block list
Drop a screenshot if I wanna start sh*t
I ain't f*cked your man, that ain't how I rock sis'
I just took him to the bank to make a deposit, aah

[Interlude 2: YK Osiris]
Mmm-mmm, yeah-yeah, mmm

[Verse 3: YK Osiris]
She see body, when she lookin' at a young n*gga
I f*ck her good, now she talk about a young n*gga
And I don't understand these b*tches, why they like me
I put it in, now she wanna act so feisty
Now she say she worth it, but she ain't worth it
I put them diamonds on my wrist, and now she want me
I swear you n*ggas always lookin' like y'all know me
I put them diamonds on my neck, and now they want it
And now she wanna get it right now
And I'ma let her go for right now
And when she talkin' 'bout she 'bout it, she ain't 'bout it
And when I'm 'bout it, she ain't 'bout it, mmm, 'bout it

[Verse 4: DaBaby]
Everybody know my name
Ringin' bell, ringin' bell like the hallway
I ain't gotta cap in no motherf*cking rap
I whip out and air it out broad day
I got in with the stick, and I'm with that
Break a n*gga in half like a Kit-Kat
I been tryna' be positive mama
They ain't f*ckin' wit' Jonathan, mama
Who you know put they motherf*ckin' self on the map
And now they ain't on nobody sh*t
I send one of my lil' n*ggas, come take you off
You get laid on the floor by a jit
Got pulled over with 55K in my pocket
The police they know I'm legit
The police they know I got sticks
They be worried about me, they know I'ma click
These n*ggas they know I'm a dawg, I ain't worried about him
I know he a b*tch
The next n*gga that come play with me
I'ma send him to go ask 2Pac for a pic
They say I'm the hottest new n*gga
Go check the thermometer, that n*gga sick
n*gga must have a fever or somethin'
Heard he was born up on Cleveland or somethin'
Let me give you a history lesson
We moved back to Charlotte, 1999
I ain't sayin that none of that matter
If somebody touch me, then somebody die
Why he talkin' so calm when he say that?
How you make him rewind and replay that?
Who you know get a fade once a week
And they try make it wave, f*ck a motherf*ckin' wave-cap
Everytime that the DJ play "Suge"
n*ggas throw up they arm like a motherf*ckin' racetrack
Everytime that my babygirl see me, she run
And say "Daddy", I love when she say that
Everytime I hit one of my moves, all the b*tches go crazy
They like how I do that
I keep one in the head, if I don't let off first
I'ma dive to the side when I shoot back
Yeah, I'm comin' like Blade in this b*tch
f*ck around, and walked down in a trenchcoat
They gon' have to put me with the greats
Wanna f*ck with me, she gotta wait
Only yacht, would mean me and the kids
There's four of us, we're on the sea eatin' steak
I ain't goin' ooh-ooh on a b*tch
I ain't goin out sad 'bout no hoe, I'm a pimp
He keep bumpin' his motherf*ckin' gun
We gon put his ass up like a motherf*ckin' blimp
Like to talk on the pillow wit' hoes' that's gon' get him
Exposed, he a muhf*ckin simp
You know he keep that thang on him baby
Quit askin' him why that boy walk with a limp
I 'on't care bout this motherf*ckin' chain
But I still bust your motherf*ckin' brain
Just got head on a motherf*cking plane
Ain't no cap in my rap, I'm the truth
And then f*ckin' yo' hoe from the back
I knew hoe for a day, she won't ghost, she the swoup
And these n*ggas ain't livin like this, why he talkin' so gangsta?
Your boy, he a fluke
They know Baby gon' blow, he a flute
They know Baby gon' blow, he the bomb
They know Baby was just in Miami
Now he in LA, n*gga think he LeBron
They know Baby go baby on baby
But five years ago, n*ggas say he was John
I touch down at the front of the plane
And the driver come pick up my Louis Vuitton
While he drive me around, I be blowin' that pressure
I'm chillin' backseat with the iron

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