[Intro]
We got London on da Track

[Chorus: A Boogie Wit da Hoodie]
You mad, n***a, your adrenaline rushin', it feel like a bus, but I'm whippin' the Wraith
Got my head to the ceiling, want me in my feelings, only got me feelin' a way
I ain't sayin' I'm addicted, Adderall prescripted, fuck it 'cause I don't feel the pain
Let a n***a touch my chain, fuck it, n***a, kill him, fuck it, they can take me away

[Post-Chorus: Roddy Ricch]
I got my dawgs in this bitch, I know they gon' shoot shit up
And my lil' brother turned to a drummer
Walked him outside, now he got the llama
I took that Maybach where the J's at
Tell my brothers ball a hundred summers
All my n***as know run up them numbers
Fuck it, run up them numbers (Yeah)

[Verse 1: A Boogie Wit da Hoodie & Roddy Ricch]
Run up them numbers
OKC, you don't want no thunder
The old Tracy McGrady, the one
OKC, you don't want no thunder, yeah
Christian the sweater
Okay, Christian Dior the sweater
The double R came with the umbrella
When I put the hoodie on, it get realer, yeah
Put a hundred thousand in my Prada jeans
Got some little homies, got some prodigies
And I spent five hundred on Prada tees
Made it out the projects, poppin' overseas
Shawty gave me sloppy toppy on the seat
I make some calls, you can't cop the fleet
Gotta be an antisocial gangster 'cause the feds watchin' my tweets
[Chorus: A Boogie Wit da Hoodie]
You mad, n***a, your adrenaline rushin', it feel like a bus, but I'm whippin' the Wraith
Got my head to the ceiling, want me in my feelings, only got me feelin' a way
I ain't sayin' I'm addicted, Adderall prescripted, fuck it 'cause I don't feel the pain
Let a n***a touch my chain, fuck it, n***a, kill him, fuck it, they can take me away

[Post-Chorus: Roddy Ricch]
I got my dawgs in this bitch, I know they gon' shoot shit up
And my lil' brother turned to a drummer
Walked him outside, now he got the llama
I took that Maybach where the J's at
Tell my brothers ball a hundred summers
All my n***as know run up them numbers
Fuck it, run up them numbers

[Verse 2: Gunna & A Boogie Wit da Hoodie]
Fuck it, I ran up the numbers
Piped up like a plumber
And sold all the bundles (Sold all the bundles)
I paid off the debt to your honor
And went got some commas and commas and commas (Racks)
You let it get to your head, yeah, I remember when you was a runner (You was a runner)
I heard you got snatched by the feds, yeah, say you willin' to tell 'em whatever (Yeah)
I still be killin' in projects, even though I been runnin' them numbers up
They used to tell me I'm not next, I'm like look at me now, I'm in front of them
And I just hope you never set me up, my lifestyle too irregular
And I don't know how I'ma trust again, I swear
Audemars might fuck up your eyes, yeah
I bust down a piece of the pie, yeah
I wanna speed off in a Cayenne (Speed off in a Cayenne)
I got a cup full of Hi-Tech
Have a pool party with the posse (Pool party with the posse)
We be the talk of the topic
These fuck n***as don't where the drop at (Uh)
They won't want us ridin' in the drophead
And he mad that my bitch got a Masi'
[Chorus: A Boogie Wit da Hoodie]
You mad, n***a, your adrenaline rushin', it feel like a bus, but I'm whippin' the Wraith
Got my head to the ceiling, want me in my feelings, only got me feelin' a way
I ain't sayin' I'm addicted, Adderall prescripted, fuck it 'cause I don't feel the pain
Let a n***a touch my chain, fuck it, n***a, kill him, fuck it, they can take me away

[Post-Chorus: Roddy Ricch]
I got my dawgs in this bitch, I know they gon' shoot shit up
And my lil' brother turned to a drummer
Walked him outside, now he got the llama
I took the Maybach where the J's at
Tell my brothers ball a hundred summers
All my n***as know run up them numbers
Fuck it, run up them numbers