[Verse 1: G.T.]
Ayy
Ayy we rap for real (Ooh)
In the trap house right now, I don't rap the peel
Unc' got a big ass crib, he like Uncle Phil
Man that's like two hundred fifty racks when it's me and Phil (What up, Phil?)
Left wrist, hit me for a curry, man that's Plain Jane (Dirty rich)
All my n***as got a cane and stick, we on the same thing (For real)
Bitch keep fucking with the help, fuckin wit the lames (Ehh, we cappin')
Mad 'cause I done cut her off 'cause we ain't on the same page (Ayy, ayy, ayy)
N***as playing, they get hit up with the same K (Bah, bah, bah)
Shooter off the Addy, man, he been up for like eight days
I just say what up to the bitch, she think I'm runnin' game
Hit the time, one day, I came out with a hundred K

[Verse 2: Philthy Rich]
Large seven mile, off a seminary, it's just me and bear
Next time you sneak diss me, it's from the cemeter'
Four FOD chains on and my thang long
Playin' with this bad bitch pussy with my ring on
Every time you see mom, dude, she got designer on
Boy yo' mama shoulda swallowed you or kept the condom on
Plus I put her in that big house, got her feet up
Gucci g'd up, Chanel bags, throwin' C's up
My baby mamas ain't no prostitutes, both them bitches square
But if I had a baby by my hoe, n***a, who would care?
She done gave a n***a ten years, that's ten mill'
Boy your n***a got ten years but he a snitch still
[Verse 3: G.T.]
It's like we still some lil' kids still, we rock big wheels (Skrt, skrt)
Drum, when you load it, gotta spin it like a windmill (Grr)
Make it play, I ain't got no service 'cause we in the hills
Kick the bitch out after I fuck her, we ain't finna chill

[Verse 4: Philthy Rich]
(Ah)
Me and Skeez up in Club True, got them thugs too
Got them guns too, in tha D, I got love too
Told the bitch she better turn around, she wish she turnin' down
I be with the turn around n***as who ain't gon' turn it down