[Intro]
(Rell On The Track)
Are you in the mafia?
Am I in the what?
Whatever you wanna call it, organized crime
I'm in the waste management business, everybody immediately assumes you're mobbed up

[Verse]
Top down, chillin' in the summertime
All I see is blue hundreds, bitch, I'm colorblind
The bitch say the pussy for me 'cause she know it's mine
N***a, I done ran through a hundred like a hundred times
Ridin' down Rodeo in a Wraith
You might as well say I'm out in space
A thousand miles away and I don't feel out of place
I could see thе hate through these all-whitе buffs on my face
I just counted up a hundred, 'bout to count another hundred
I ain't runnin' Dior runners, I'm just fresh as shit
Spray some of that Creed, she wanna lick me like a peppermint
Had to tell her move 'cause, bitch, you can't spill this medicine
All I do is preach on these beats, I'm a reverend
This lil' bitch a freak in the sheets, yeah, she devilish
I gotta have at least fifty racks if I pop out
How the fuck I got these Jordans on and they not out?
These hoes raw, wanna fuck you for a shoutout
If I catch a case, we going to trial, ain't no cop out
N***a talk spicy, put some sauce on his taco
Throw a n***a bitch back to him, Joe Flacco
I told my ex-bitch, "Take a seat"
I cuddle with the chopper every time I go to sleep
A n***a want smoke, we gon' put him in a leaf
I gotta leave them racks in the club on the floor when I leave
I'm a real live P, come and go as I please
Top down, chillin' with a baddie
Her friend with her and they both got a fatty
Yeah, they cute, but I'ma send these hoes to Cincinnati
Don't slam the doors on this long-sleeve Caddy
She wanna fuck me everywhere, this lil' bitch a savage
I guess I'm like a father figure 'cause she call me daddy
Her n***a think he got some racks, but he never had 'em
Old n***as hating on the youngins, I ain't never understand it
The hoes think I'm rude 'cause they say I ain't romantic
You give me vibes, if you get in that room, you gon' panic
I'm smokin' on some za, no, this weed ain't organic
I got some fish scale in, not no salmon
I got three cars parked outside of the mansion
You used to be that n***a in the hood, bro, what happened?
Ayy, ain't no Lululemon on me, rich as your big homie
Get some head at the Coney, it was boogers in my Rollie
Then I switched to the AP, fit cost like eight G's
All my n***as takin' shit to length, we don't take pleas
You would take a cold bitch to the mall, I make her so pleased
My young n***as takin' hits, they the A-Team
Fully on this Glock, seventeen, make it an eighteen
You just started getting pape' in 2018, lil' n***a
[Outro]
(Rell)