[Intro Young Lo]
Yeah, look, woo
OHB shit, look, uh
[Verse 1: Young Lo]
Swear these bitches think I'm Bruce Wayne
Pull up in that blacked-out Aventador
Youngin' with a bag
Fuck you lil' n***as rentin' for?
Pink slip your life with paper tags on your wife
Only hit it for the night, while that price tag was like woo
Fuck boy, don't run
Tried to book me for the TEC, they ain't know I had a gun
Yeah, I came up out the slums
Where the thugs and the killers at
Started with a gram, had to juug it to a quarter pack
Now I'm doin' numbers, bustin' plays like a quarterback
RG3, I could dish it all for runnin' back
I'm straight in every state, used to navigate the interstate
Lee Ainslie with the bricks, bitch, I'm pushin' heavyweight
[Interlude: Young Blacc]
Young Blacc n***a
I promise, I got 'em
Look, look, look
[Verse 2: Young Blacc]
Whatever time it is, fuck it, yeah, I'm goin' in (Yeah)
On my bullshit like the Knicks, but I'm back to win (Ha)
Turn me to a ten, John Starks, yeah, he close to kin
Subway on the way to Harlem just to get some scenes
Movie from the from the corner store (Yeah)
Said he got a couple bricks (Yeah)
OHB n***a, so the crowd lookin' for a link (I got it)
HoodyBaby posted at the strap 'cause he gettin' in (We gone)
Flawkoe on the phone where they play, guess I'm pluggin' in (Hahaha)
That's the money talk, n***a, and you know I'm with it (Know I'm with it)
And if your bitch sellin' pussy, promise I'ma spend it (I'ma spend it)
That's that D-boy talk for them drug dealers
And just left Detroit, fuckin' with them thug n***as (Go)
They say that out of town money look the best (Yeah)
So I'm focused on this money, lil' n***a, fuck the rest (Woah)
When I got it, I got it
My n***a Flawkoe a problem
I turn my son to a rider
And then we pull up on sight on your block
[Interlude: RRose RRome]
Yeah, yeah
Yo
[Verse 3: RRose RRome, HoodyBaby]
I should write a book, I love the life full of crime
Bein' a millionaire, I put my life on the line
Who can you trust when it's comin' so fast?
Take shots, make Margielas turn into toe tags (Graaa)
Everywhere I go, white bitches say I'm gnarly (Yeah)
Flawkoe, we doin' Bentley truck or the Ferrari? (Ah!)
.40 on the scene, you can tell your man I'm sorry (I'm sorry)
It's OHB, bet we fuckin' up the party
Yeah, money orders at my man's lot
Somethin' you should know, super flexin' got your man shot (Graaa)
Yeah, VVS's made of headshots (Yeah)
Hold on, I'm just a bully in the sandbox (Yeah)
[Verse 4: HoodyBaby]
Rings so big, all these bitches think I'm wrestlin'
I just hit a lick with the team, we the champions
Hold up now, you gon' have to count the cash again
HoodyBaby knows they peakin' in the bag again
I been sellin' white girl, Marilyn and Marilyn
Red light, green light, all I know is traffickin'
All I know is packagin', all I know is damagin'
All I know is come through, chop it up and handle it
Check me out, I been movin' work
I been movin' weight, I been pumpin' base
My clique ride like some BMX's
My neck shine, they all VVS'
[Verse 5: Chris Brown]
'Cause I walk my county line, pressin' lines, run up on 'em
Blood, where you from? Eastside, Bompton, Balifornia
And you ain't never hit a lick and had to run up on 'em
Virginia n***as know about sellin' on 95
Show up at your door, it's Halloween, like I'm Michael Myers (Huh)
Jamaican savages comin' at you with all the knives
Spittin' razors and goin' crazy like Colombines (Huh)
I got the AK, fuck your Draco and your .45 (Yeah)
You know that he gon' snitch, know that he a bitch
And you know a n***a ballin', know a n***a rich
Really been to county, n***a, you know what it is
You payin' money for protection, n***a, you a bitch
Say it with your chest, what you say? What you say?
Pussy n***a, we on your neck, runnin' from the fake
Know you gon' tell the twelve all about me
Know you gon' sign the paperwork and n***a gon' speak
Tryna save you own ass, tellin' on you homies
I'ma fuck you up in private, so these bitches don't see
I ain't gotta be your favorite, you ain't gotta love me
I ain't gotta pay no killers, ain't gotta be drug free
N***a sayin' that I'm on that cocaine
Sayin' I'm higher than a motherfucker, okay
But when I fire your ass up like propane
Blaka-blaka with the choppers, we killin' n***as with no names