[Intro]
(Damn, you went Beats Mode on this one)
Bro told me fuck 'em up, been goin' up since he said it
I can't entertain her texts, but I read it
(Pablo, you crazy for this one, haha)
Yeah

[Chorus]
Bro told me fuck 'em up, been goin' up since he said it
I can't entertain her texts, but I read it
Pockets itchin' for that money and fetish
Say, pockets itchin' for that money and fetish
In that field, bro throw a play, I'ma catch it
Make some money, that shit made me some leverage
Now they on me, tryna send me a message
Left all the fakes back with the leeches and peasants

[Verse 1]
Hit the gas, in the coupe with my main bitch
Figures change, but I swear I ain't change shit
Drop the top, I pop my shit when it's brainless
Plastic Glocky, but my bro keep a stainless
Rap n***a know when I see him, he chain-less
I watch my back 'cause these n***as be dangerous
Knife on the Glock, I pull up, tryna blade shit
I'm on my shit and we not on the same shit
Still that lil' n***a from back then, I just got packs in
And I been eatin' like Pac-Man
He tried to run, blow his back in
Bro got a MAC-10, we lay him down like a mattress
Took out the drama, brought racks in
Look at my fashion, I'm rockin' Dolce & Gabbana
They know that we never had shit, I ain't gon' cap shit
Slept on the floor with my mama
L.A., I ball like a Laker
Ain't tryna miss when I shoot, so my gun got a laser
I'd probably fuck 'fore I date her
She know I'm Flow and I came in this bitch with some paper
FN on my hip for a hater
Jumped in that water with snakes and piranhas and gators
They probably made us
He gave his all to a bitch that be fuckin' my brothers
Please, save him
[Chorus]
Bro told me fuck 'em up, been goin' up since he said it
I can't entertain her texts, but I read it
Pockets itchin' for that money and fetish
Say, pockets itchin' for that money and fetish
In that field, bro throw a play, I'ma catch it
Make some money, that shit made me some leverage
Now they on me, tryna send me a message
Left all the fakes back with the leeches and peasants

[Verse 2]
In my feelings, go and lock in the booth
Don't wanna a lot, she know I just wanna the truth
When you tryna win and you destined to lose
Just keep on tryin' 'til you get you some blues
Know these n***as couldn't trod on my shoes
I act like I'm cool, but really, I'm through
Fed up with all these n***as who been pocket-watchin'
And these n***as who watchin' my move
I ain't gon' fake, I been in my bag
And they know that
And we the youngest n***as
Leavin' n***as stretched out like a doormat
Yeah, yeah, they hate that I'm poppin' my shit
Yeah, yeah, on Granny, yeah, yeah
I keep on pourin' up fours
My bro tryna tax for the lows, we still get 'em gone
I bring my stick on the road
Just when they think I'm alone, I up it and blow
I know some shit they don't know
But if I speak on the shit, that'll mean that I told
Bro put a beam on the pole
He up this bitch and red dot landin' straight on your nose
[Chorus]
Bro told me fuck 'em up, been goin' up since he said it
I can't entertain her texts, but I read it
Pockets itchin' for that money and fetish
Say, pockets itching for that money and fetish
In that field, bro throw a play, I'ma catch it
Make some money, that shit made me some leverage
Now they on me, tryna send me a message
Left all the fakes back with the leeches and peasants