[Intro: Duffy]
Hey
Bitch, ayy
What's my name? Hmm
Tell 'em like this, shit

[Verse 1: Duffy]
What's my name? Let me get in my bag
I know you heard of OTM, we put this shit on the map
They ain't wanna let us in, we kicked the door, Jet Li
I'm shittin' on n***as, I guess it's just the dog in me
When your mouth get to runnin', make that shit make sense
N***a, you's a lil' pup, I'm a full-grown pit
30 stick or a switch on every n***a I'm with
Big dog with no bark, that last n***a got bit
And free my n***as out the dog pound
Sleazy n***a, hit your sister, how I did her, I belong up in the dog house
Backend loaf, just made another couple thou' wow
Rockin' shows, remember we was hot on SoundCloud
You ain't know? Since you know now, don't be scared
Just be smart, it's a stickup, put your hands in the air
Boy, be a 187, none of my n***as care
Two fat bitches in my face, you know I'm makin' 'em share
Ayy, I'm really with the gun smoke, yeah
We went solo on they ass, but it's still all love, though
Drumroll, we with all the drama, we shoot big poles
Big loaf full of blues, all dogshit on me
Went and made a name for myself, now I can flex
Foreign coupe, you bet I scooped this bitch up at LAX
Took a trip to Saint Beta, me and Nina Ross next
Show respect or come correct, that'll be your best bet
[Verse 2: Blue Pesos]
Yeah, we know the name, bitch, it's Pesos with an S
You got that baby 380, and all our guns is high-tech
Twenty-ball on the floor, it's kind of hard not to flex
It's not the way to go, jack, you on the block wearin' sandals
Look, bop bop bleed 'em, catch me creepin' through the shadows
Keep your mouth shut 'fore we pull up snatchin' bustdowns
This Tommy gun'll have an opp n***a clown dancin'
If you ain't struggled with us, ain't no seat at the round table
We ain't worried 'bout that opp, we'll tape the block later
N***as steady bitchin' in my comments, here's two middle fingers
Sound of the Drac' is phenomenal, R&B singin'
I am not these other n***as, stupid bitch, you know I keep pistol
Still be thuggin', mom said, "Stay on that rap shit"
If he ain't tryna be a tattoo, make him a pack then
Long pole, hide in camera before I lap dance
Same starting five, I don't got too many rap friends