(Verse 1: Danny Brown)
My Uncle offa Blow, nodding while he standing up
Minute’s been stuck like he picking something up
Rolling up the swisher with the sac under my nuts
While I’m puffin on a Lucie, talkin bout the latest truck
And Hi (how) ima come up and get one next summer
So next summer won’t be talking bout next summer
Yo bitch is a runner, my n***as had fun with her
Did the whole team and heard you put a gun to her
Homie that ain't pimpin, soft hearted for these hoes
I feeds em lots of pills, and put coke up in they nose
Go to thrift stores, drop a buck on t-shirts
Lines in the dressing room then she bought a cheap purse
Straight up out the hut with some suburb hoes
Expensive perfume and some new old clothes
Cuss it ain't high end, ain't gotta be vintage
She buy her own drinks and week supply of spinach

(Verse 2: Daniel Sewell)
Now baby break it down just to build it back up
Copped a couple pounds, then help me bag it up
A pill and a half now a n***a acting up...
Drunk too much, now a n***a throwing up
But that was last night, n***a I’m still drinking
Smoking on the purple got a n***a pupil shrinking
Plotting on a Lincoln, get it with the ink pin
You Fucking with me, my n***a what you thinking
Your bars too immature this is grown man flow
And that’s why my bitches grown with some grown man dough
You’re fucking with them youngins, on the phone with them hoes
I text a bitch a message now she knockin' at the door
Naw that’s the pill man, let me get four
I swear this the last time, I won’t do it no more
But said that last week, and now a n***a back
Fuck it, It ain’t like a n***a smoking crack