[Intro: MGM Lett]
(Al Geno on the track)
Yeah

[Chorus: MGM Lett]
Having flashbacks of a shootout, hit a n***a up and fled
I can't seem to shake the memory, live and die right in a shed
It look like I left a murder scene, bottom of my shoes red
These Christian Loubs
He bought a pistol, died with a gun he ain't get to use
Money on my mind, I can't switch the mood
Can't be running out of time, I got shit to do
So with that said, gotta get my bread
Tryna get some shit stuck out my head, I'm seeing dead

[Verse 1: Rylo Rodriguez]
Rylo, yeah
I see dead people, yeah
Even though I ate, I ain't trynna see the fed people
I sent a crackhead into Walgreens just to get the meds cheaper
Ho must think she gon' spend the night, she brought her bag with her
She don't know I'ma call a Uber soon as I get done hittin' her
I want the fame, I want the money, but T.I. not my father
Went and bought a Drac', but it spit like Tha Carter
Went and fucked his bitch, make 'em break up like the Warriors
Pull up I8, ain't no way I'ma starve ya
My dog got three strikes, left me hurt, we was in the right field
What you know 'bout daytime, house still dark, couldn't pay the light bill?
Found out my brother heart stopped beatin', tried to call Mike WiLL (Tried Metro Boomin)
I heard them fuckboys pillow talkin', I'ma give 'em Nyquil
I'm in different Bathing Ape like chimpanzee
I can fuck any bitch I pick like Jalen Ramsey
My Cuban link, I let her take a selfie with it, she European
Rylo, Lett, we signed to the streets like some homeless men
[Chorus: MGM Lett]
Having flashbacks of a shootout, hit a n***a up and fled
I can't seem to shake the memory, live and die right in a shed
It look like I left a murder scene, bottom of my shoes red
These Christian Loubs
He bought a pistol, died with a gun he ain't get to use
Money on my mind, I can't switch the mood
Can't be running out of time, I got shit to do
So with that said, gotta get my bread
Tryna get some shit stuck out my head, I'm seeing dead

[Verse 2: MGM Lett]
My pockets look like fat people
In Cali with a flashlight, tryna get them bags cheaper
Like a DN, got my sack right, they turn to mad people
They loved it when I was broke, they was happy
Got the game up in a choke, swear I left them n***as gasping
Hit a n***a up, he gon' need more than some Aspirin
N***as actin' tough, they gon' have to close his casket
R.I.P. Doe B, they thought this trap music was dead
They keep on pillow talking, we gon' snatch 'em out the bed
I'll slide by myself, don't need a clique of dudes
And all my n***as rich, these bitches pick and chose
N***a talkin' out his head
I was drivin', seen an opp, bop-bop-bop-bop, then I fled, yeah
[Chorus: MGM Lett]
Having flashbacks of a shootout, hit a n***a up and fled
I can't seem to shake the memory, live and die right in a shed
It look like I left a murder scene, bottom of my shoes red
These Christian Loubs
He bought a pistol, died with a gun he ain't get to use
Money on my mind, I can't switch the mood
Can't be running out of time, I got shit to do
So with that said, gotta get my bread
Tryna get some shit stuck out my head, I'm seeing dead