[Intro: Chillinit]
- three, four
Whoo, ah man like fuck this, you know what fucking time it is in this bitch
Give me my suit and tie shit, roll me a swisher in this mothafucka'
High like a mothafucka'
Fly like a mothafucka'
Shy like a mothfucka'

[Verse 1: Chillinit]
Wow, this the paper chase
Mal, with the baby face
Cause gal want wake and bake
Vows when I take on dates
Kanye got the heartbreaks, I'm on the eight oh eights
And now maybe we should head down to your baby's place
And momma kick it by the crib
Fuck you with your mouth closed, please don't wake your kid
Cause I could make manoeuvres in this Uber whеn I skid (Skrr)
Hit the legs, jump the fеnce, that's Khabib like - check

I speak serial codes that be my lucky charm
Louis store mixed with the Dior that's on the underarms
Twenty grand on my whores, I call that upper-class
When I'm breaking this fast she call me Ramadan
Booty rocking everywhere I call her (?)
Dropping Cali Packs in the crib and pay the double charge
Flied in overseas, my homies hustled hard
Now I'm bout to fly overseas, came up on hustle hard
Now I'm bout to fly overseas, came up on hustle hard
Wow this the paper chase, Mal with the baby face

[Verse 2: Miko Mal]
Used to run them (B dubs)?
Now I'm beat up, me bub
Bar wreckers, double two (?)
Straight to hell, if they want clash, throw the piece up
Flower power making (?) (mhmmm), she wanna eat up
The doors creaking, (?)
Me and Chill, look at this (?)
Run the ball, laying low
(?)
Trampoline, bouncing Arabian nights, take a flight
Going left but making right, do bad but make a right
Four twenty fam, six- six
(?)
Every time we sip or not, these gal(?) say I got the vibe
They say I got the vibe, me and chill- what they like
All this blasphemy to (?), and rock a guy
(?)
Jack bottle, rapper now (?)

[Verse 3: Chillinit]
This bitch bad boujee, make her Vert like Uzi
With this skirt and the booty, looking shnack like Scooby
With this pack
Now this boy got the doobie in the dacks
Now this boy making movies on the map like I'm Spielberg
Real girl, yeah it's four twenty with the six, six
Gold chains rocking like we Slick Rick
Fitty on this dick wrist
Carti with the Cartier drip- drip
C'mon party with the lit kids, pop a bottle
[Verse 4: Miko Mal]
Champagne goggles, sway and wobble
(?), like the twelve Apostles
Bro is dripping heavy, designer got shipped already
Hunnid K, one band, double crossings like we praising Fetty
Talk spicy with Chilly (?), like Serengeti
Taking flights, (?)
(?)
Look what we done with words
Buddha flavour, Bundabergs
She say she ain't run a Turk
A soldier but she (?)
Double six I'm with the pack, with the pack we run the herd
I'm (?), with the jeweller- get some custom work
Meriton manager want to talk to the damager
We ain't amateurs, work around the parameters
Uncouth, Versace shades- soundproof
Jump (?)
In a sky in a plane, bro thinking we bout to die
After everything we made it out alive
Survival of the fit, only the strong survive
We're hustlers, what we want we buy

Survival of the fit, only the strong survive
We're hustlers, what we want we buy