[Intro]
Sloppy seconds, bitch

[Chorus: Playboi Carti, Litactus & Both]
Yeah, hol' up
I might hit that bitch yeah (Oh), in some Gucci socks
I just shot a pussy n***a in the parking lot (Yeah)
Let me talk my shit, let me get this shit
N***a poppin' shit, let me pop my shit

[Verse 1: Playboi Carti & Litactus]
I want 250 (I want 250), just to rock this shit (To rock this shit)
Just to rock this shit (To rock this shit)
I'ma need like 250, just to kill the beat
Just to kill the beat, just to kill the beat
Got that telescope on me, yeah, I never miss
Got that real dope money like I'm selling crystal
I can't even hold you, I can't fuck with none of these n***as, they bitches
All of these n***as hating on Cash (Hol' up)
We fucking these bitches (Hol' up)
We got money too (Slatt)
I smoked a pound or two, got a bitch she rocking Prada too
And she got designer shoes and I got designer too
Too sick, that bitch done caught the flu
My bitch from Atlanta too, she hit the bitch with that 22
I could put a bag on you (Yeah)
I could put them racks on you (Bitch)
I just got the tracks, yeah
I'mma pull her tracks too
Ratchet bitch so bad
Butterfly doors, spend a mil on clothes
AP two-tone, bought that bitch on the road
Let me call my partner up, yeah, he got clean dope
She want clean dope
I want some lean, ho
I need a mean hoe
She trap with the kid, yeah
That what them folks sayin'
Young n***a don't miss, yeah
Young n***a don't miss
[Bridge: Playboi Carti & Litactus]
And then I met ya
Just to rock this shit
Just to rock this shit (Oo-woah-woah-woah)
Just to rock this shit

[Verse 2: Litactus]
Just to rock this shit (Just to rock this shit)
I can’t pop my shit (Let me pop my shit)
I got vitamins (I got vitamins)
Shawty need the D (Shawty need the D)
Shawty get the D (Shawty get the D)
Yeah, you got the lock (Yeah, you got the lock)
And I got the key (And I got the key)
Let’s get out, be free (Let’s get out, be free)
Yeah I copped a moped just to get myself some freedom (Oh-woah)
I just copped an MC just to get myself some more
I ain’t check the signs, I check the dash, I’m always speeding
I be passing cops, they cannot see me, no remorse
Finally, I shoot, It’s all in my plan
Bought a Yamaha, got it from Japan
Walk up to the scene, I’m selling crystals in New Orleans
You just got my line from who? Oh, you just want beans
Presidential rollie on my wrist (What?)
Dirtbike, riding through the worst nights, bitch (Bitch)
I gotta go pop this shit (Pop it)
Hold on, rock this fit
I’m selling that pot to your bitch
And know she want rock, all that shit, with me, hold up
[Chorus: Playboi Carti, Litactus & Both]
Yeah, hol' up
I might hit that bitch yeah (Oh), in some Gucci socks
I just shot a pussy n***a in the parking lot (Yeah)
Let me talk my shit, let me get this shit
N***a poppin' shit, let me pop my shit

[Outro: Playboi Carti]
And then I met ya
Just to rock this shit
Just to rock this shit
Just to rock this shit