[Intro: 26AR]
Slum
A Lau on the beat
Drench, drench, drench
Ayo, Eli what the fuck?!
Ayy, AR

[Chorus: 26AR]
They throw shots from quick recognition (What?)
Mask on, 'cause of facial recognition (Boom)
You know I've been to the bookings (Uh-huh)
Back then, I was terrorizing Brooklyn (AR)
Nowadays, a couple racks for the booking (Breesh)
Bet you can't name it, then it got took'n (At all)
Right now, I got big names looking (Yeah)
Almost there, I got like, half a foot in (Yeah, yeah, yeah)

[Post-Chorus: Slayter & 26AR]
Keep a .45 on me, I ain't fighting
Back then, I was terrorizing Dyckman (Grrah)
All I do is get high, and dodge indictments (Grrah)
I don't fight, but the bullets hit like Tyson (Grrah)
They must've not got the memo (Memo)
We ain't runnin' outta ammo (Ammo)
We in the field like the gang wearin' camo (Camo)
We movin' milli, like Tony Soprano (Yeah, yeah)
[Verse 1: 26AR]
Told Slayter, "We see them haters later" (Slayter)
Lappin' n***as, they like, "Wait up" (Wait up)
Made breesh, out apartments of labor (Breesha)
I watched close friends turn to haters, uh
They must've ain't heard 'bout the drench (Drench, drench, drench)
Every clip gotta extend (Grrah)
Lift him up, and watch him ascend (Lift him)
Or pass I might give him a pass, it depends (Yeah, yeah)

[Verse 2: Slayter]
Life been full of new shit (Life)
Hit the bitch, and I pass her to 26 (AR)
All my n***as got Glocks, and they use it (Grrah)
If the bitch don't give head, then she useless (She useless)
We just get high and we fuck to my music
Poppin' these 30s, that shit therapeutic
Waka Flocka, on my hip, oh, let's do it
Mix the Xannies, with the Addy, I'm booted (I'm booted)

[Verse 3: 26AR & Kay Flock]
My closet filled up with Prada shit (Drip, drip, drip)
Dior, Amiri, a lot of it (Yeah, yeah, yeah)
If the jeans ain't a band, I ain't coppin' it (At all)
I don't care what I'm totin', I'm flockin' it (Grrah)
Told my brothers stay smart, not dangerous (On bro)
'Cause a dangerous n***a get whacked (On bro)
And a dangerous n***a might lack (On bro)
Don't wanna converse, if it ain't how to pack (Baow, baow)
[Verse 4: Kay Flock]
Like, bitch, I'm the face of the Bronx, like
I do what I want (I want)
I don't need my gun
Uppin' my phone or my finger, I still make 'em run (Pussy)
Like, he say he go ku' with the deuce, he don't know what to do I'm the Flock who go dumb (Who go dumb)
If he don't got a mask, boy, that's his ass (That's his ass)
Face recognition, he done
EBK, DOA, GBG babies (Babies)
We tote choppas like this shit the Navy
Old heads get boomed, we leave 'em lazy (Pussy)
If you want me to slide, better pay me (Pay me, n***a)
Bitch I'm the king of the Bronx, yeah, obey me (Like)
N***as cappin', like these n***as made me
Bitch I done upped it, on n***as who raised me
He can get clicked on, thinkin' he wavy (Dummy)
And I can't name a n***a who chased me (Who chase me?)
And I can't name a n***a who chased me (Like)
Toting on .30's, Barettas, no safety (No safety)
And I'm quick to up score like McGrady
(Bitch, I'm the Trend, but I'm ballin' for JB)

[Chorus: 26AR]
Throw shots from quick recognition
Mask on, 'cause of facial recognition
You know I've been to the bookings
Back then, I was terrorizing Brooklyn
Nowadays, a couple racks for the booking
Bet you can't name it, then it got took'n
Right now, I got big names looking
Almost there, I got like, half a foot in
[Post-Chorus: Slayter]
Keep a .45 on me, I ain't fighting
Back then, I was terrorizing Dyckman (Grrah)
All I do is get high, and dodge indictments (Grrah)
I don't fight, but the bullets hit like Tyson (Grrah)
They must've not got the memo (Memo)
We ain't runnin' outta ammo (Ammo)
We in the field like the gang wearin' camo (Camo)
We movin' milli, like Tony Soprano