[Intro: Freeky Zeeky]
Let's get it, Blanco
Yeah, it's your boy Freeky, 'bout to rock outta here, 730

[Verse 1: Nipsey Hussle]
Look, I'm in that black on black, pockets fat, hoppin' out the 7 strapped
Walk up to the club, don't pat me down, they just pat my back
All my n***as got chains on and we thick as fuck
Out of dress code and rush the door 'cause we don't give a fuck
Standin' on the couches, poppin' bottles, smokin' weed
You see them hoes flockin' and that's how you know it's me
I got power in these streets, big balls, boxers briefs
A gang of dead P-R-E-Z's in these expensive ass jeans
Yeah, and I'm a beast off in them sheets
So if I pull then I'm gon' squeeze, as soon as I cum, then I'm gon' leave
As soon as I'm done, I'm gon' be back on my grind, back on these beats
Could I never be a n***a that had it, lost it and end up back in these streets
Nah, so it's All Money In 'til I'm R.I.P
In my city, n***a, I am he, and we are the O-N-E's
Nah, so it's All Money In 'til I'm R.I.P
In my city, n***a, I am he, and we are the O-N-E's

[Chorus: Freeky Zeeky]
We don't care about a quarter, gettin' dough
We don't need another to count it off
Now pop a bottle while you scream 'Fuck the world'
Now pop a bottle while you scream 'Fuck the world'
And get money
We don't care about a quarter, gettin' dough
We don't need another to count it off
Now pop a bottle while you scream 'Fuck the world'
Now pop a bottle while you scream 'Fuck the world'
And get money
[Verse 2: Blanco]
Fuck the bouncer, I'ma smoke an ounce and bounce out
I lost a mil, made a mil, shit'll balance out
That's a hundred-fifty thou-wow, count it out
I'm the greatest hustler, pound for pound, haha
Get it, got it, good
I distribute lots of drugs, it's a tribute to you thugs
Introduce you to the plug, uh, me
You that I've arrived when you smell that good weed
I'm a G-U-E-R-R-I, iller than you muh'fuckas wanna realize
In my high-rise, fuck all you low-lifes
That's why you haters will be broke for your whole life
And I'll be sittin' nice, like I did it twice
Or even three times, immortalized
I order guys, to kill other guys
Crime is organized, not like them other guys

[Chorus: Freeky Zeeky]
We don't care about a quarter, gettin' dough
We don't need another to count it off
Now pop a bottle while you scream 'Fuck the world'
Now pop a bottle while you scream 'Fuck the world'
And get money
We don't care about a quarter, gettin' dough
We don't need another to count it off
Now pop a bottle while you scream 'Fuck the world'
Now pop a bottle while you scream 'Fuck the world'
And get money
[Verse 3: Yukmouth]
Look, your money gettin' low, Yuk still gettin' dough
I'm whippin' chickens night and day, call it Kitchen 24
And I'll be sure to have my n***as grittin' 24
Sippin' Bo and pushin' weight, call it Fitness 24
Go, it's 24's on the Range Sport
I'm accustomed to red carpets and champagne corks
Corks, we have cabana Armani exchange shorts
And gettin' brain in that Panamera champagne Porsche
Of course, braggin' game the business, bitch
In the VIP with Blanco, got my thang up in this bitch
Got no time for no lames, what you thinkin' in this bitch?
I lay a n***a out flat like you plankin' in this bitch, hold up
(Fuck boy) Swole up, I roll up out the turkey bag
Nothin' but the best, BMF, blowin' money fast
Third base on my waist, don't get your homie gassed
I'm a California bear like a Cal Berkeley grad

[Chorus: Freeky Zeeky]
We don't care about a quarter, gettin' dough
We don't need another to count it off
Now pop a bottle while you scream 'Fuck the world'
Now pop a bottle while you scream 'Fuck the world'
And get money
We don't care about a quarter, gettin' dough
We don't need another to count it off
Now pop a bottle while you scream 'Fuck the world'
Now pop a bottle while you scream 'Fuck the world'
And get money, yeah