[Intro]
Young Lan on the track
Uh, look
Brr, bow, bow, bow, bow, bow
Moneybands for a kilo

[Chorus]
I heard he made a couple plays out there in Michigan
But he don't really got no rank, he a middle man
We got pure cocaine color Michelin
Tell a bro fill up the tank on that mini van
I'll slide back the door up on that bitch like I don't give a damn
N***as know I show up with that, uh, that ceiling fan
I'm off that block where we post around with them killers
All our Glocks equipped with switches, damn
Baby girl, mind your business, damn

[Verse 1]
I'm off too many xans, cancelling so many plans
Thinking with my mini man, baby don't sweat it
Drop the advance on buddy head, he wasn't ready
Hit my connect for them kilos call it spaghetti
Speaking cold with Lil' Kobe on the phone with my celly
Pour a pint of lean in my sprite, I like to do shit
Baby if you spend the night, can we try some new shit?
When they hit that magic light, cuban color cool whip
What I spent the other night, could've bought two whips
Bitch I'm gettin' money now the opposite can't do shit
I threw a switch on every blick foenem to run through shit
Bitch, a hundred in my amiri jeans I'm too lit
Ooh, hundred on these blood diamonds, all blue strips
He can hide and he gon' find his whole crew hit, bitch
I tapped the switch when it's time to shoot shit
Shit'll get sticky when this blicky hit them loose lips, uh
[Chorus]
I heard he made a couple plays out there in Michigan
But he don't really got no rank, he a middle man
We got pure cocaine color Michelin
Tell a bro fill up the tank on that mini van
I'll slide back the door up on that bitch like I don't give a damn
N***as know I show up with that, uh, that ceiling fan
I'm off that block where we post around with them killers
All our Glocks equipped with switches, damn
Baby girl, mind your business, damn

[Verse 2]
I told her "Leave the door unlocked I'm finna race the 'vette"
And we do laps on n***as' blocks like a pacer test
Shawty I'm a twenty-figure n***a, just ain't make it yet
He a Tommy Hilfiger n***a with his basic ass
He like Jack And Jill, 'cause he'll waste a bag
Once I hit that kill-switch, bitch, he'll make it back
Don't try to run off with that shit, 'cause I'll take it back
Told her "ain't no running from this dick, I'm tryna break your back"
Let me take that back, I'm tryna make you thick
Maybe we could make a match, baby I could make you rich, uh
And that's a fact, but it's a hit or miss
I don't know how to act, you know what the business is

[Chorus]
I heard he made a couple plays out there in Michigan
But he don't really got no rank, he a middle man
We got pure cocaine color Michelin
Tell a bro fill up the tank on that mini van
I'll slide back the door up on that bitch like I don't give a damn
N***as know I show up with that, uh, that ceiling fan
I'm off that block where we post around with them killers
All our Glocks equipped with switches, damn
Baby girl, mind your business, damn