Verse 1]
Son of a gun on the run just like my Daddy ass
I ain’t from Flint but I beat your fucking chatty ass
Crook gotta steal a look every time a fatty pass
Where I know your girl from I smashed now ain’t you glad you asked
Knew your Momma fore she had your sister she was smoking
One eye working on the stove the rest bunking
I’m from Detroit but I don’t wear buffys
Fuck Cartier glasses pissing on hoes like Puffy
Detroit East Side shits much hotter sitting down in the spot but I ain’t no squatter
Dead boy magic like Harry Potter
Got it all out the earth through the mud and soddеn
Dead boy magic I burn down ya spot
I don’t give a fuck how much money you got
Call thе cops N***a they ain’t gon’ do nothing
I’m paying ‘em off cause my pockets bussin’
You don’t wanna sell dope boy you know that’s a lie
We pitching Biggie Smalls you not ready to die
I’m from Detroit’s east side all y’all soft
I’m on fire like a molotov
Task force kickin’ in your door ‘bout to raid ya spot
They don’t give a fuck if you end up getting paid or not
Dope man dope man 313 I don’t know you but you know me
Serving big macks like Mickey D’s
Stuck in the trap tryna get this cheese