[Intro: Lil Baby]
Al Geno, on the motherfuckin' track

[Chorus: Rylo Rodriguez]
If you postin' on the internet, it can't be that real
Walk with me, I'ma show you what these n***as really is
Just listen, say a n***a got bodies, but who the hell they killed? (Hell they killed?)
And they really tired of seeing they homies' mommas sheddin' tears (Sheddin' tears)
Tuxedos, all slacks, them n***as used to that (Used to that)
Hearse, all black, them n***as used to that (Used to that)
They get off first, we send 'em back, and make your dawg carry
They claim they're killers, in their hearts, they know they're pallbearers
Pallbearers (They is), pallbearers (It's what they is)
We gon' make them n***as used to bein' pallbearers (Yeah)
Pallbearers (Yeah), pallbearers (Yeah, yeah)
Gon' drop your brother, put him in a hearse, you bitches pallbearers

[Verse 1: Rylo Rodriguez]
It's been eight months, momma still can't afford him a tombstone (Tombstone)
I know steppers who'll come kill you with no shoes on (No shoes on)
I know young n***as who pop Percs, then go and invade homes (Invade homes)
He was tryna make it to his bed, but he got laid on (He got laid on)
Micro-Draco sprayin' (Yeah), at night, watchin', blazin' (Yeah, yeah)
All the opps like hotels (Yeah, yeah), them pussy n***as Days Inn (Yeah, yeah)
Put the ho in the DM, tryna meet by PM
Hundred cars in line, it's gettin' normal to them (This shit's normal)
Put three on both sides, it's gettin' normal to them
Black suits and ties, it's gettin' normal
Heard a n***a gettin' tired of cryin', it's gettin' normal (Talkin' to the preacher, n***a)
These n***as keep dyin', but shit is normal (Shit normal)
They shot him so many times, he got a number
[Chorus: Rylo Rodriguez]
If you postin' on the internet, it can't be that real (Can't be that real)
Walk with me, I'ma show you what these n***as really is (What they really is)
Just listen, say a n***a got bodies, but who the hell they killed? (Hell they killed)
And they really tired of seeing they homies' mommas sheddin' tears (No more cryin', ma)
Tuxedos, all slacks, them n***as used to that (Used to that, yeah)
Hearse, all black, them n***as used to that (Used to that, yeah)
They get off first, we send 'em back, and make your dawg carry (Dawg carry)
They claim they're killers, in their hearts, they know they're pallbearers
Pallbearers (They is), pallbearers (It's what they is)
We gon' make them n***as used to bein' pallbearers (Yeah)
Pallbearers (Yeah), pallbearers (Yeah, yeah)
Gon' drop your brother, put him in the hearse, you bitches pallbearers

[Verse 2: Rylo Rodriguez]
What it was this time, n***a?
Was it closed casket with him?
Said his funeral was full of hoes, boy knew some bad bitches
Said his funeral was full of hoes, got them n***as mad bitches (Them n***as mad)
Left his vehicle full of holes, green light 'em in traffic
They in church on Saturdays, shot the boy like heroin
Shot that n***a like Marion (Shawn Marion), keep shootin' like cameraman (Like cameraman)
Every picture that he took, he had his automatic (Had his automatic)
But soon as they caught him slippin', hit him with that ratchet
(7.62s) Hit him with that Draco, we know (Heaven, won't get you)
(Post him on Facebook, you won't make a status no more)
[Chorus: Rylo Rodriguez]
If you postin' on the internet, it can't be that real (It can't be that real)
Walk with me, I'ma show you what these n***as really is (What they really is)
Just listen, say a n***a got bodies, but who the hell they killed? (Hell they killed?)
And they really tied of seeing they homies' mommas sheddin' tears (No more cryin', ma)
Tuxedos, all slacks, them n***as used to that (They used to that, yeah)
Hearse, all black, them n***as used to that (Used to that, yeah)
They get off first, we send 'em back, and make your dawg carry (Make your dawg carry)
They claim they're killers, in their hearts, they know they're pallbearers
Pallbearers (Pallbearers), pallbearers (Pallbearers)
We gon' make them n***as used to bein' pallbearers (Pallbearers)
Pallbearers (Yeah), pallbearers
Gon' drop your brother, put him in the hearse, you bitches pallbearers