[Intro]
Yeah, yeah
Aight, yeah
Yeah, yeah (BSquad beats)

[Chorus]
I don't know why he hold that gun up in that picture, he did not pop it
N***a, think he hard, we prove him wrong, bro pulled through all [?]
This is not no gun, it's a RPG, jump out and hit the rocket
He came in the hot box, we had flipped it, and now he's in a locket
Put all his fingers in the bowl and make his mama eat 'em
She cryin' bout she miss her son, if she don't eat, I bet she meet 'em
Jump out with a all-white ARP, I call it Justin Bieber
N***a [?] burnt, this micro give a n***a jungle fever

[Verse]
Walk down on camera, fuck a mask, I don't care who a witness
Leave a n***a face planted on the wall, just like two light switches
I could care less but what you're sayin', let alone what you heard
[?], but I am not from the 'burbs
That's SRT too geeked, wide body, fat, fuck 'round and hit the curb
He think this shit sweet, catchin' me crash at night, come out and learn
I heard he chillin' with his bitch, have lil' bro snatch the purse
Don't fall for the bait, he in that corner store, step back, tap the burst
We got that drop, soon as he move here, know he super fried
Wait 'til he got somewhere else to go, blow up his Uber ride
[?] jump out trippin' with that micro, n***a, ready to drill
The AR-15 long [?] too big shoot for the hip
AR-15 long, come [?], so I shoot from the waist
'Fore a n***a walk off trippin' [?], he better say his grace
He just don't know, 'fore he get wrong, he turned into a plate
These young n***as ain't ate shit in a while, fuck that a couple J's
Fuck n***a, we love beef
And he the type to drive by, we jump out and get on feet
I trade bank rolls in for bodies, young n***as clap shit up for me
He keep on hidin', he just don't know that BK just love to seek
[Chorus]
I don't know why he hold that gun up in that picture, he did not pop it
N***a, think he hard, we prove him wrong, bro pulled through all [?]
This is not no gun, it's a RPG, jump out and hit the rocket
He came in the hot box, we had flipped it, and now he's in a locket
Put all his fingers in the bowl and make his mama eat 'em
She cryin' bout she miss her son, if she don't eat, I bet she meet 'em
Jump out with a all-white ARP, I call it Justin Bieber
N***a [?] burnt, this micro give a n***a jungle fever