[Intro]
Run it up, get it up, run it up, got it
Lil' bitch
BasslineFanaticz
Yeah

[Verse 1]
Fuck what they say, man, I went out and did it
And went out and get it and went out and got it
Then made it fit in like a plug in a socket
Whipping through traffic and touching and rocking
All them blue faces busting out the wallet
All them bitches bust it open for papi
All my n***as shake it up and then lock it
All my n***as whip it up and then rock it
I'm running back and forth, up, down the interstate
I don't do dinner dates, I need that chemistry
I need that energy
I sent that bitch to look out for my enemy
Longest making money, y'all need a remedy
1942 shot, he want a Hennessy
See me in drip with a whole new identity
Seen him one time, he said, "Do you remember me?"
He wanna give me that dough like a Kennedy
Making money like it's ten of me
Drum on that Draco, no symphony
Dude in L.A. tryna send for me
He tryna put it way up where my kidney be
N***a, you kidding me? (N***a, you kidding me?)
N***a, you shitting me? (N***a, you shitting me?)
You chilling and shouldn't be
I'm tryna run it way up where the ceiling be
Diamonds on me, cost a pretty penny
N***a shining, and I mean that literally
VVS got them strippers naked in my section
That shit looking glittery, ooh
Heavy artillery, ooh
You bitches ain't killing me, ooh
Presidential like Hillary
LightSkin the Keisha, you bitches remember me

[Chorus]
Right back on my shit
Then I'm right back on my shit
Then I'm right back on my shit
Then I'm right back on my shit

[Verse 2]
We the new fidgets of flexing
The front on these bitches too subtle, these bitches too humble
We break down that 'Wood and that weed gon' get crumbled
Run to that money right after the huddle
I don't lay up, I don't have time to cuddle
I don't do back and forths, ain't no rebuttal
Walk in Chanel and I grab me a couple
I'm tryna load up them racks in my duffel
I'm tryna show these bitches how to hustle
I'm tryna show them you gotta have muscle
I'm tryna show them you gotta get busy
LightSkinKeisha baddest bitch in the city
Talking that shit, she get split like a Philly
Hop on that dick and ride out like a wheelie
I need that bank account filled up with millis
I got a bunch of stars all on my ceilings
Bitch, ooh

[Chorus]
Right back on my shit
Yeah, then I'm right back on my shit
Then I'm right back on my shit
Yeah, then I'm right back on my shit
[Outro]
Yeah, yeah
Right- right back on my shit
Then I'm right back on my shit
Yeah
Right- right back on my shit