[Intro]
(World Famous)
(World Famous)

[Verse 1: RMC Mike]
Turky bags, classic bag
Black bags, black mask
Bitch, I'll never fall in love with your rat ass
But she pretty, hypnotized me with that fat ass
Okay, money on the floor, money on the table
Brodie still tote that Glock, even though he on paper
Nephew hit the road with them ’bows, I just pray he make it
He made his first hundred thou', I'm like, "Congratulations"
I’m Gucci, Radric Davis
Fuck n***as tried to play us
The 'bows is down in basement
Presidential, Ronald Ragan
A hundred M's been on my mind, and shit, I'm tryna chase it
Ten racks, I spent that at the mall, your n***a tryna save it
Bitch

[Verse 2: Bossileni Jagg]
We outside, this bitch rapid firе
Play with me, you dying
We gon' grind, turn an 8 to 9
Chop that bitch in dimes
What hе on? Brodie, where your pole? Turn him to a ghost
If it's smoke, we gon' do the most, lil' brodie up the scope
Selling dog, this shit Fentanyl, baby, check his pulse
Tryna ball, sell a brick and balls, I might sell it all
This shit raw, talking girl and dog
Let me make a call, get ’em off
Mikey, what it cost? Rollie with the frost
When I chill, brodie, who you kill? We with this shit for real
I might still throw a bitch out the crib like Uncle Phil
I can’t feel, I ain't got no feelings, money over bitches
This shit pimpin’, paper over pussy, wealth over women