[Produced by Blickie Blaze]

[Hook]
Young mad n***a balling out the slums
99 problems but he ain’t one
Got it rum pum pum with me handy gun
Me rum pum pum with me handy gun
In a brown paper bag, brown paper bag
In a brown paper bag, brown paper bag
Me rum pum pum with me handy gun
Me rum pum pum with me handy gun
In a brown paper bag, brown paper bag
In a brown paper bag, brown paper bag
Me rum pum pum with me handy gun
Me rum pum pum with me handy gun

[Verse 1]
So thick [?] can’t fold it
Neck and wrist that’s colder
Young n***a talk that game
Rip that shit then sold it
Open up the strip fast, close it
Can’t hear you with the strip talking
Bubble when it catch that flame
Bitch just whip that soda
Now we never stopping from police
Just put the product in the streets
Don’t want no war to keep the peace
Cause we known for riding with the heat
Stackhouse up in that trap house
Ten toes down, my strap out
Back against the wall, n***a lash out
N***a can’t think with his cap out
Them birds on, got hang time
My young boys throw gang signs
Don’t fuck with no new n***as
Get crossed like them state lines
Maserati swerving, out the lobby serving
Wash that money like detergent
Snatch that rex and drop the work in
[Hook]

[Verse 2]
Dreamt about all of this money
N***a done woke up and got it
Rinsing off all of these hundreds
N***a came fresh out the projects
I’m high off that contact like canned tuna, my top back
Done found out they eat cheese so it’s glue all in my mousetraps
Got this shit, man this shit laid out
We eat and run like it’s takeout
Only way you gone come up if we stay down
They act like being a real n***a’s played out
Dunking on these hoes, jumping from that dotted line
Move work up on the stove, end of every night, I counted mine

[Hook]