[Verse 1]
It's East Side until my ashes in a gold vase
Ride downtown in my city bumpin' Ghostface
Fuck the police, bitch
I feel like I'm O'Shea
Mental health problems n***a I know I'm not okay
Spillin' Pinot Grigio while I count up this bread
I like my bitches pussy bald and my presidents dead
I shit in the booth, these hoes gon' lick my dick in the coupe
I got these n***as scared to drop like that Bishop in Juice
I wear the mask with the butterfly knife don't let me fuck up your life
I put your heart in a bucket of ice
I might be in a five star with a couple of dykes
It's Lord Benton, ill n***a cuffin' the mic
N***as get shot everyday
He be aight, B
Gold Jesus piece hid over the polo white fleece
Fly n***as stay laced in vintage Versace
Need a stronger aerosol to mask the scent of the body
It's the God n***a

[Verse 2]
Money over bitches
Power over cowards
N***as plottin' so I bathe with the shotty in the shower
Homicide investigate a body every hour
Paranoid like smoke'll prolly buy an 8th of sour
The soundtrack to a killa's last breath
Up at Follies blowin' bread 'til ain't no fuckin' cash left, n***a
Never let no wet pussy fuck your dough up
Toast to the dead n***as, pour up
Blood money in the ziplock so it don't mold up
I feel like Mitch in the cherry red Beamer bumpin' Cold Crush
Second childhood, n***as grow up
The God in [?] bitches go nuts
I'm stuntin' like Money Mayweather
The cash is way better than being broke
Get topped in the back of the grey Tesla
Lord have mercy the wolves are hungry and thirsty
Screw the barrel on the mouth of the 30, arrivederci
It's the God, n***a