[Chorus: Chill Will]
N***a better not run up on me
Run up on me, run up on me
Run up on me, run up on me
Run up on me, run up on me
Or he gonna be a dead homie
Dead homie, dead homie
Dead homie, dead homie
Dead homie, dead homie
This spot is for drugs only
[Verse 1: Quavo]
Pulling up in a big wheelie
Cooking dope, just me and Chilly
Stuffing the bricks in the Bentley
I wrap it and send it to Philly
This a drug only area you trippin'
Phew, the pack gone missing missing
Gggraow, gggraow, the bullet gon' hit him
Young n***a young n***a we realer
I hang we with gorillas
My n***as dope dealers
You short with the guala?
Call Skippa the Flippa
[Verse 2: Takeoff]
The coca that cola, I'm smoking a blunt
Like that purple come from Minnesota
The plug hit my Motorola
He talking bout shipping it over
Can't fold you gotta roll over
That's what them OG D told me
Me and Chill Will, popping the seal
Diamonds on chill, Forgi my wheel
Flipping the brick trying to get me a M
Trap spot, no Jay Z, J got that hard knock
Cameras on my [?] block
[Chorus: Chill Will]
This spot is for drugs only
Drugs only, drugs only
Drugs only, drugs only
Drugs only, drugs only
Got a whole lot of money on me
Money on me, money on me
Money on me, money on me
Money on me, money on me
N***a better not run up on me
Run up on me, run up on me
Run up on me, run up on me
Run up on me, run up on me
Or he gonna be a dead homie
Dead homie, dead homie
Dead homie, dead homie
Dead homie, dead homie
This spot is for drugs only
[Verse 3: Chill Will]
I tell you right now
I don't really play bout that
You done went and made me mad
I tell you right now
A n***a can't tell me nothing
You ain't never sold me nothing
Count the money I'm sweatin' (Woo!)
10 squares I'm blessed
Your girl on my dick cause there's ice around my neck
This song is for thugs only, this house is for drugs only
This kitchen, no refrigerator
Just a stove in it with a pot on it
All this big money on me, now I gotta keep a gun on me
N***as trying to run a trick play then they gonna have to bury homie
Short barrel, Gary Coleman, 81 bullets, Terrell Owens
I'm VIP, members only
Pulling these hoes like [?]
911, operator
New Jaguar, space invader
Let a n***a run, gonna get done up, trying to fuck up my come up
[Chorus: Chill Will]
This spot is for drugs only
Drugs only, drugs only
Drugs only, drugs only
Drugs only, drugs only
Got a whole lot of money on me
Money on me, money on me
Money on me, money on me
Money on me, money on me
N***a better not run up on me
Run up on me, run up on me
Run up on me, run up on me
Run up on me, run up on me
Or he gonna be a dead homie
Dead homie, dead homie
Dead homie, dead homie
Dead homie, dead homie
This spot is for drugs only
[Verse 4: Dirty Dave]
I got one [?], got two parts, got three scales, and four shells
Got five bricks, six guns, [?]
Nine zones, got ten phones
[?] cross the end zone
All I gotta do is make one call
All of them things gone
What's up n***a?
Yo n***a n***a, I fuck with ya
[?] slick shit [?]
Got a hundred round drum, got a [?]
[?] wanna play, OK, let's get it
[?]
[?] snitching
[?] money [?]
20 bands in my pants, I spend it
[?]
I be getting money, who the fuck you kidding
[?] n***a I did it
Stay strapped, n***a I ain't slippin
In the trap with the packs [?]
Say you got a lick, my n***a let's get it
[?]
[Chorus: Chill Will]
N***a better not run up on me
Run up on me, run up on me
Run up on me, run up on me
Run up on me, run up on me
Or he gonna be a dead homie
Dead homie, dead homie
Dead homie, dead homie
Dead homie, dead homie
This spot is for drugs only
