[Intro]
Uh (Uh), uh-uh-uh
Uh (Uh), uh-uh
Uh (Uh), uh-uh-uh
Uh (Uh), uh-uh
Yeah

[Verse 1]
Sticks, Glocks, pop out
They got the racks, we gon' hop out, yeah
All of my bitches, they up now, yeah
I'm flexin', I'm gettin' this guap now, yeah
I'm off these shrooms, I'm lash now, yeah
I'm in the field, I'm passin the stick, yeah
This bitch in the field and gettin' some shit
Got some shooters across the map, like it's John Wick
If I got three K, I turn it to six
Hold that, that's yo' bitch, why yo' bitch tryna hit?
I be switchin' my fits like I'm switchin' my kits
And these n***as they mad because I am the shit
I-I-I could've do this, all day long
I'm countin' my money, this shit it's too long
[?] than me? Throw on my songs
I'm buffin' off this whip, now I'm in the zone, yeah
Fuckin' this bitch, she wanna go home
I'm sorry, lil' ho, I be posted alone
I be gettin' this money like I'm Post Malone
I'm off the drugs, off of that ho
I pull up on the block, I be posted with Coroner
Got the money on me and I can't pass this
See through the bushes, through these glasses
I am the one but I'm not average
[Verse 2]
Burn the blunt, I'ma pass it
Racks on me, a n***a is tryin' me
What's he tryna do? He can't [Cardi?]
I could pop a bottle, I could pop this Bacardi, yeah
And this ho still tryna tell me how to take them [racks?] on me
And I got her bitch on me, yeah, she look like a Barbie
And I got this dough because I'm feelin' [?]
And she ask if I give a fuck, and I said, ''Hardly''
And I know you is my lung, you is a sharpie
Why the fuck, why the fuck, why I'm so gnarly?
Swear I gotta get these racks, I put that on me
Get these racks, I'ma get this money, I'ma get that green
I'ma get the mo'fuckin' money, boy, I get it lowkey