[Intro: RJmrLA]
Oh, I got the right to pop it, think I ain't?
Independent and all that
Big toys and all that
The fuck I'ma fall off? I used to get eight balls off, tuh

[Verse 1: RJmrLA]
So many opportunities come in when you ain't got a job (What you sayin', Juice?)
Ayy, man, I'm sayin' be your own boss
Only worry 'bout the price of it when it don't cost, yeah
A free meal'll cost you both arms
I'm on a road to more riches, on a dog path
I seen the light and took off like a launchpad
Any ambition for opposition, I'ma park his ass
Trumpets and drumsticks like a marching band
Big clips, they makeshift like they pots and pans
Ray flips, they shapeshift, we chippin' chopped sedans
Cops is Klans, they clique up when the blocks expand
Watch your friends, they freed before the charge begin
I ain't no hater, my n***a, so mind your business
I seen your plate, it got bigger since I been in it
I keep this lead in my stick 'cause they test my limit
You made your bed, so go lay in it 'til you flip it

[Chorus: RJmrLA]
Oh, I see her text, she can tell I done bossed up
Come to my table, don't drip in my salsa
Can't compare what we did, bitch, we awesome
Ain't just give us this bread, this ain't boss up, no
She just wanna party and put all the powder in her nose
[Verse 2: Bino Rideaux]
N***as still rockin' like kneepads
Bitches think I rock with Future 'cause I'm with them free bands
Rich n***a, still gon' give that thirsty bitch my cheap hand
You crazy, still ain't spend no money out my savings
Ain't gon' hurt nobody, put that car note on my baby
They try be them dudes, I was cruisin', tryna be like Webbie
Ain't got no notebook or no computers in my baby
They try to ride the wave, they can have that
N***as ain't gon' get down, what they mad at? That 40 push your hat back
Promise you can get it if you want to, yeah, yeah
I'm off drank and pills, okay, I'm goin' through, yeah, yeah
I got flip-phone money goin' through, yeah, yeah
Off the block I owe my soul to, yeah, yeah
All my money hidden, ain't no hole to it, yeah, yeah
Just ran up the racks off my Pro Tools, yeah, yeah
Don't make me peel out, get the old me
N***as out here talkin' like they gettin' it, n***as ain't gettin' it like they told me

[Chorus: RJmrLA]
Oh, I see her text, she can tell I done bossed up
Come to my table, don't drip in my salsa
Can't compare what we did, bitch, we awesome
Ain't just give us this bread, this ain't boss up, no
She just wanna party and put all the powder in her nose