[Intro: Babyfxce E]
Huh, yeah
Bitch, bitch
M Block
Huh, yeah

[Verse: Babyfxce E, 1Up Tee & STAR BANDZ]
Huh, yeah, we on some shit like that
Last year, my chest was naked, how it get like that?
Hmm, 1Up shit, I cheat first, I don't go tit for tat
Give me that, I got my first advance and blew through fifty racks
Man, huh, Tee this shit too easy, I'm talkin' fifty cash
Presidential, pull up longsleeve and all them bitches black
Watch me up a roll on these n***as, up eight hundred racks
Gettin' money, flexin' for the cam, feel like I hit the jack'
Frrt, frrt, frrt, fully chop sound like a fart
All winter, I been on n***as' neck, I feel like a scarf
Huh, baby, that's the blick, lil' bitch thought I was on hard
You might catch me in your hood, n***a, but I don't work on cars
Uh, skrrt off in a Bentley truck, they like, "How you did that?"
Opps can't name a town they slid and we ain't slid back
Hmm, you know I fuck with Striker Boys, don't get your whip snatched
Leave your 'Cat outside the club too long and we gon' strip that
Huh, and if you want it back, it cost you six racks
Matter fact, hit him with the belt, charge him ten flat
Huh, chop hit his leg, sound like Kit Kats
That's not my Louis V, man, that's probably my lil' bitch bag
Think I'm a rapper 'til I put my whole advance on your wig
You never touched a hundred, I can't understand what you sayin'
I'm like a yoga coach, I made her put her head between her legs
Fat n***a, I take a breath and go back in
I don't need no black Forces, I'll chase him down in LVs
I'm too real for these n***as like I'm 3D
The type to go John Cena, can't even take a sneak peek
Swear to God I'm locked in with them killers like we knee-deep
Yeah, make this bitch go bang-bang like I'm Chief Keef
I'm in the booth 'til 5 a.m. like who need sleep?
Huh, we gon' keep on spinnin', we on repeat
She sendin' pics before we even fuck, she showin' sneak peeks
Four-nick make 'em retreat, the Draco make 'em scared
Before rap, I had that fire work like Katy Perry
41 Fenkell Ave original, that's Baby Terrance
I'm done shakin' hands 'cause why these n***as claim we friends?
In the D with Tee and E, finna shoot back to the land
Ridin' in somethin' that cost a hundred with like twenty in my pants
Trap shit, step on the dope so many times, it look like ranch
Hit up they block and shoot the Drakey, it sound like it's speakin' French, n***a