[Intro]
(Primo, turn this shit up)
Yeah, aight
Ghetto, Money, aight
(Primo Beats on the track)

[Verse]
Money ain't shit, why I don't act like this?
Three Glocks on my hip, why you strapped like this?
On some paranoid shit, I almost whacked my bitch
I keep fuckin' her like this, I might crack my hip
N***a, got me hip rollin’
UPS man and a plain Rollie, got my wrist hurtin'
N***a, I ain't D-Trip, I don't sip turtle
Stand over his ass with the switch, he got killed, murder
KB just went to Mickey D's, but you a real burger
Them n***as shot the crib up, we took it real further
Mike, I don't think the pills workin'
What you think'll happen to our brain if we sniff purple?
If we sniff syrup
Kobe Bryant Forces on with a KITH shirt
Don't put the ho in the beef and get the bitch burnt
I knew it was a ninety-round piece 'cause the clip turned
N***a, I don't really give a fuck who got rich first
I started off with Air Force Ones, they weren't Rick first
We started with nickels and grams, they ain't had bricks first
This how it happen, the car hit the corner, but it gets worse
Dropped so many shots, that bitch flipped over
At Great Lakes, ruley with a Draco on a kid's stroller
I don't know the bitch, but my kids know her
I met some OGs in the feds who put real work in
You a fake killer
You a Thursday fed meal, you a baked chicken
You a fake sipper, you a fake n***a
They told me to calm down, I need brakes, n***a
She came in the room hair done, now her lace different
I done took so many Percs, my face different
N***a, I was takin' fentanyl Percs and I ain't feel it
I ain't braggin' though, that shit dumb as hell
If the pill ain't from the Pharm', then it wasn't real
Like how a n***a really shot at us and he wasn't killed
Pulled up to his titi house, he got his cousin killed
I’ma keep it real, that slime shit got my cousin killed
But I am not trippin'
We found them n***as mama crib and threw a bomb in it
Four n***as ran out, was dead in five minutes
Oh damn, they say somebody dead burned, that's five n***as
Me, KB and Mike, but we got five triggers, someone got two guns
You still goin' to the Y? We got a new run
I got some growers out in Cali, you got a shoe plug
That night them n***as threw 'em at my house, they shot up two clubs
N***a you could never make a new bud, he just too real
You know I was high as hell, I was too still, I wasn't movin' enough
Bro, let me see the pint bottle, you ain't doin' enough
Ayy, Phil, you still got your camera rollin'?
Make a n***a burn for five days, we'll candle somethin'
Sometimes I fuck for an hour or five minutes, I'm a random fucker
I was tryna get ten bricks from this Spanish fucker
But I couldn't speak Spanish and he couldn't speak English
And I couldn't learn shit and he couldn't teach either
That n***a stole somethin', get me a meat cleaver
I'm finna cut his hand off 'cause my feet itchin'