[Intro: Daveed Diggs]
It's clipping., bitch

[Verse 1: Daveed Diggs]
What do they need?
Powder, weed or Adderall?
Let them in slow
Settle them in
Cali', and know when they step in the doors and seeing all the hoes
Cutting coke in the kitchen and cooking over the stove
Ain't wearing none of their clothes and it's closed and it go like that
Never wanna have to show the strap
But you got one
And it got drums that hold hundreds of bills
Old and crumpled
And real soldiers humbling
Huddling round their heaters
Competing for millimeters
Like "Who cock the biggest?"
What you got significant?
Locked and loaded, on Patron and peyote hallucinatin'
The realest shit going on with the homies the only way to get over it
Is to get your weight up, and pray over all of the bodies
Of border walking killers is hiding beside the fact of the matter
The guts will splatter at will
Every bunny in the jungle know it's kill or be killed
Come get it
[Verse 2: Daveed Diggs]
It ain't no fun
If it ain't cocaine in the system buddy
But I ain't got none
To do it the way OG's banging
Bitch wanna get sprayed to run
And getting away with it anyway
Anybody can get it
Get it?
Got it
Goddamn it
Can't believe today was a good day
When it seem like every other day is a hood day
Do you see the irony?
He don't know nothing about it
This murder ain't bout nothing but
Murdering snitches and burning bridges with all the bitches who used to swing on the dick like it's good for physical fitness
You fitting to, but no bullshitting
Well better start hitting switches in that
Low, low
Drop it until it about to hit the floor, floor
Can't nobody stop it when it go, go
Gadget on a ratchet like a hatchet
How she chop and screw the dick up licking after all the wood
That been blowed good
And blowed up
Get thowed and running up in the guts and busting
Come get it
[Verse 3: Daveed Diggs]
Woop, Woop
That's the sound of the end of the party
Chew up the molly
Quick, pick up all the guns and get rowdy
Better be the best if they trying to be the definition of every of hood motherfuckers contorted vision
They snorting the game
Sporting the flyest of fashion passionately
Wanna get some action, then better make sure the camera can see
The fuck wanna enter in a war with a veteran?
Who got a score to settle with motherfuckers for medelling?
You think about the kettle, the pot has been plotting blowing until blue
And they face crews
Wanna be true
Claiming that you
Pocket or not
Back it up drop
All that you got
Into the bag
Make it a tax write-off
Take it right off that ass
Now flip it
Dip it
Brake it
The foot on the gas
Go ahead and clip it
Pop it, shake it
And make it go fast
The days of painting for fascination a thing of the past
Well, get your paper or partner
You talking cash, they talking fast
Come get it