[Produced by Cardo]

[Intro]
They hate all my n***as, they hate that I'm breathing
Shoutout to my squad, ya feel me? OTF Gang

[Couplet 1]
Is it true you got shooters hangin' out the roof?
I'm just tryna' to do what I spit in the booth
Free Dada & Bodo, shooters on the loose
On the block earn stripes, squad full of troops
Call Zoo, he be ready every time I do
Shot clock but he ready every time to shoot
Ops route for a diss I just give 'em shots
I gotta chill cause the police posted on the block
These things say we hot but it's easy to flop
I call Rod ‘cause he easy with mop
N***as hating, just give my prop
N***as say that I'm dumb when they see me with thot
Boy I tell 'em like, I can't get better with bitches
I’m so fed up with these snitches, smoke one for Pluto
I'mma put grass in these Swishers
And step on these pipes with my n***as, they killin' my prime
Bitches, they killin' my vibe
IG full of money but they askin' for rides
Not me, ask one of my guys
I kill for one of my guys, free bro from the drive
Remember them days I was starvin'
Empty stomach, no car, no money
These n***as be tweakin' that's why I got shooters on dummy
Let's get it
[Interlude: Lennox]
You want bombaclad war? hm? hm?
You wanna ramp wit me?
(gunshots)
Come on me say!
Me shot 61 people for fun!
Who want test me?
Come on, come on!
Do you know who ya bombaclad ramp wit?
You don’t know me, I’m the original Jamaican dandatta!
You understand, Jamaican Rude Boy!

[Couplet 2]
Got Broski on point like Kyrie
Don’t fear no man that can die like me
I done dodged doin' hits
I dodged my momma told me get out Dodge, I can't sleep
I can't mob, cause I’m in too deep
It’s to the point where my n***a only came to me
Fuck a homie cause a homie don't think like Tony
Montana cause the chopper for shorty, ohh
Lost J-Money and [?] havin' our hater
No Drake, but n***a we made it
Called Dede he ready, he slingin' impatient, got killers like Hatians
I land in Miami, call Dada, we go and take off to Lil Haiti
Got shooters on shooters who shoot to kill shooters, ain’t talkin' no navy
Sneak dissin' on the squad, we send shots at that boy and Broski be facin'
Pillowtalkin' to bitches, I see if she bad, but n***a she basic
I ain't hearin' 'bout n***as, and I ain't worried 'bout n***as
Street sweepers, hit the streets up, and I care ‘bout a n***a, let’s get it