Rich homie baby, Yeah, Yeah, yeah...

[Chorus]
Grab the ice while its cold, pop the seal on it, now we pourin' eights
Yeah...yeah...
Doin' shows on the road, no mo local shit, more like tour dates
Yeah...yeah...
Tell ya hoe to get a table, and put these hundreds on it, we gon' eat da plate
Yeah... yeah...
And when its all said and done and ya money gone, We Gone Be Straight
Ok now, we gone be alright shawty we gone be straight
My diamonds look like light shawty, that's why I'm always late
My sideline tryna fight shawty because she want her place
And I don't wanna play no games with ya, that's what kids for
My daddy told me 'Never hit her, just fuck her good like you miss her'
Make her stomach hurt no sit ups
Couldna been me she woulda been fucked...ok
Money and God, I put no one above that
That thang you do with you tongue you know I luv dat
I poured a eight out for my partners dead and gone
I got some partners doing 40 who ain't never coming home
I know my time coming so I check the mirror
Meanwhile, grab the ice out the cooler

[Repeat Chorus]
Gettin' them scripts by the pint, 4 by the bottom, 8 in the phantom
Shouts out goes to molly
Shouts out East Atlanta, shouts out to the projects
Shouts out to my closet, naw shouts out to my wallet
And we still young made bosses
No dinner plans but we flossin'
And I'm in the van with that 40
Like a business man, no talking
Ok, that jet I'm in private n***a
Okay, okay
Got a potato at the end so when I shoot it, it be silent n***a
And if you fuck me over, thats on you baby
OG Bobby Johnson, give yo ass that duece baby
Them bullets spreadin' like rumors
That n***a sweatin', get some ice out the cooler
[Repeat Chorus]