Quilly back, rappers have no chance
I can count my homies on both hands
I'ma go raw, we all go lamb
As-salamu alaykum, I don't go ham
Rap corny, I listen to slow jams
Sellin' drugs in a drug program
Bring that white to your door, Mr. Postman
If I can't beat a n***a, then the toast can
Stand tall if they sit you in the rooms
Everything I got, I had to get it from the spoon
Bout' to stop rappin', move to Mecca like Loon
No this ain't a red Fendi belt, it's Maroon
Bury me in white cloth, I don't need a tomb
I just bought 33, I don't need a goon
Make Salat every morning, and end in noon
They just waiting on that "Quilly" and it's coming soon
I got a hand full of friends, all perc players
All smokers n***a, I don't owe no favors
I'ma give them hell, n***as all rain
Benihana, Lo Mein on my Balmain
Yeah, I got my mind straight
Trap like it's 89, rap like it's 98
You might here me on 99
You pay for the pussy, I'm Don Juan
I save change cuz it all add up
Trust none, she can't even bag up
I catch wreck like saw when I mask up
Next year, you might see me in a JAG truck
Reminiscing on the days I had bad luck
Can't even chill with these hoes, just a fast fuck
Work sittin' in the pot like it's Gumbo
Most of my hittas on the run from Colombo
You can't do it big, I'ma do it jumbo
I'm still eatin' off the block like Mutombo
I'm tryna turn these Michael Jordans into [?]
Tryna turn this top Ramen into Fettucini prollly
My man want me in the stu and not the street
I got him
Cuz he know my flow hotter than those bundles in the alley
He know I'm really workin', these other rappers Tommy
I ain't a killer but don't push me, I'ma prolly catch another body
You can find me in a hood near you , moving Sani
Everything I write a murder, word to Irv and Ashanti
Like them black, like them white but got a fetish for the mamis
Cook it hard, bought it soft, should be on but I'm off
This 2 bedroom apartment when I should be in a loft
I'm staring at the stars and they million dollar cars
When I was 23-1, they had me staring at the bars
Thinking bout freedom
Thinking bout the people who left me
How I'm a leave them? N***as' ain't believe him
All these bitches thirsty and hungry, I ain't gon feed them
I ain't crying over spilled me, I'ma milk the game
Come through in a milky white JAG on you lames
I got smokers from the bottom to the top of the block
Coke rising from the bottom to the top of pot
You a pimp huh? But trickin' every dollar you got
I'd give my n***a my last whether I got it or not
Cuz we both from the hood, that's still where we at
The only time we see the suburbs is when we bussin' traps
Takin' trips but we ain't rich, but we always comin' back
N***as' always say they loyal but they always hang with rats
N***as' always say they got you but they always want it back
N***a's always hard to find when you put them on the map
N***as' always say they're wavy, sound like Quilly in their raps
But I always seem to drown them when I put them on a track
Waves spinnin' in my head like I'm Farrakhan
Bitches say I'm gettin' big like I'm Barry Bonds
All I want is mo' money, Damon Wayans every time
Fuck bitches, talk heavy, Mike Tyson, Richard Pryor
Prior to this, I was in the mix
You're all selfies on instagram, taking pics!