[Intro]
(1o)

[Verse]
Fuckboy out bad, and he sad, oh
Bitch I'm getting to them racks, like my dad did
Yeah, I'm on the way, I ain't know that there was traffic
I don't fuck with cops, because the cops are racist
And I don't like class, 'cause the clock's racing
Going fast in that ghost, then I'm racing
If you talking 'bout lil' Nett, then you brainless
Yeah, you hatin' on the kid, tryna make it
Yeah, I'm from the same city, and you ha-
Yeah, yeah, I'm from the same city, and you hating
And your bitch got Witch Gang on her playlist
And we go up, clock racing
She want take the dick, this bitch wanna face it
She wanna love the- she wanna love the Nett, but I cannot love a bitch
She want- she want fuck the Nett, maybe I can fuck your bitch
I'm in the trap, make it real right
We out bad in this ho, bitch, we getting to them racks
Long live my fucking brudda, this shit coming from the heart
Fuck 12, they some hoes, that shit coming from the heart
Thought she was my friend, she left me in the dark