[Intro]
(Yo Pi'erre, you wanna come out here?)

[Verse 1]
Not a fan of makin' new friends, n***a
Got a big grip on my F&N, n***a (Grip)
Got a briefcase full of blue pills, n***a (Blue)
Got a briefcase full of ice, [?] chills, n***a
Got a shooter and he [?] bullets, not skills, n***a
Your bitch know that you a lie, that's for real, n***a (woo)
Uncle flipped it, [?] spendin' money [?] (woo)
Especially, the ones who want me for my rich ass
I can see they want me dead, no stitches
That's why a keep the [?] in my [?]

[Chorus]
Showtime, Showtime (Hm, hm, hm, hm)
Showtime, Showtime (Hm, yeah, bee, ice)
[?]
Bad bitch, pussy bald head, call it [?]

[Verse 2]
Get the shit together, homie, you can do it
Makin' millions [?], man, my money [?]
I could book a [?], n***a, ain't nun' to it
And the real question is, n***a, [?] (No)
[?]
[?]
I've been in a different field 'cause that shit is lucrative
I want money like George Lucas, not Frank Lucas (Facts)
I hang 'round with some real slimes like a nosebleeds
Fuckin' on a group of bad bitches, look like brown sugar (Bee)
And I walk around head high 'cause I'm a home wrecker
I be fuckin' n***as wife mouths 'cause i'm a dumb getter (Go)
Show me that bitch, i'll go get her (Go)
Never ever hit a bitch, [?], i'm a hoe hitter
Hit her from the back [?] (Bee)
[?] no n***a givin' off hate, 'less it was a sack tacker (Go)
Rich bitch from Miami said her great grandaddy was a yacht maker
And he used to have a yacht master, hmm, fuck with it (Shit, go)
Can't take it to the grave, so I walk around like I'm stuck with it (Guap)
I don't give a fuck 'bout nun of that that you talkin' 'bout (Facts)
My n***a strip his ass clean, make him walk it out
On God
Bee, uh