[Verse]
He want smoke, he want smoke, he can die, yeah
I ain't feeling you, see you mad, you can cry, yeah (Blood!)
Pull up with attachments, he was fucking dead
B-B-Blood all on the floor, there is blood on the cement
Blood all on the floor, there is blood on the cement, yeah
I am making money, I don't care about my ex
And they all gon' tap in now 'cause they know I am up next
I don't care 'bout hate, they wanna be me so bad, yeah, yeah
Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah
You sit on the internet, and type "I'm on your head" (Boy)
I sit by the money counter, how much did I make?
And I will kill a bitch for talking on my name
I got Glocks, they got beams and I say that every song
But he wanted to test me so he knew that shit ain't wrong
Yeah, yeah, he want smoke, like a puff bar, like a blunt
Wanna talk down on my opps, so that's why I made this song, yeah, yeah