[Verse 1: A$ton Matthews]
Face down, it's a motherfucking molly tuna
Wasabi music
Strong dick, long clips catch bodies to it
Got you pussies dripping like South Beach
Connected like [?]
Watch for that mouth piece
That life's a bitch but them slugs cheaper
Pussy, you talking shit, you get dug deeper
Not your boys keeper, I'm your boys reaper
Brick Flair, molly maid street sweeper
Fiends facing bricks like a sensei
Riding with my red socks, but far from the Fenway
German Suplex when the tech spray
Feed the streets ??? ???
Bring that Latino heat, comprende

[Hook: A$ton Matthews x2]

[Verse 2: Vince Staples]
My n***a how you gone shoot me
Can't fit a deuce inside them tight ass jeans
Best believe we move them P's, fiends is like Dawn of the Dead
Them copper toppers send 'em all at yo' head
So tell 'em heads up, cause them 7's up
And ten times out of ten n***as gone get shot
This smash-mouth football, that goal line blue shit
Them thirty clips is worthless if you ain't' gone hit shit
But I ain't gone miss, so you can miss me with that rapping
Pop me at yo' momma, tell that bitch to run, I feel like Cappadonna
Ride around like I shot Ricky, get you like they got Biggie
Them bullets hot and that pavement hard
So don't look for God, cause he not with me
That Glock with me, nine in the back
Got one in the hole, put your mind in your lap
You can thank my momma for that