[Verse 1]
Let me tell you a lil' story, how I met my plug
Gave me guns, sold me drugs
Young n***a started with an ounce and a half
With a box on my ankle and a half-point slug
Swear my mama can't tell me shit
Imma keep smoking weed, keep it toting my clip
OG Bob told me that it's all in the wrist
Mother fuck a job cause I'm tryna get rich
Got locked for a robbery and I ain't say shit
Who, what, where, n***a I ain't take shit
Gucci on my belt I ain't gotta say shit
Your bitch all on my dick and I ain't even say shit
N***a you a lame goddamn face it
Catch me in the back n***a probably facin' (good dope)
Work piled up like a brick mason
I ain't runnin after hoes boy i'm money chasing
You stealin' my flow that shit sad
I think you owe Q Da Fool cash
The Feds they all on my ass
Cause Q Da Fool known to put n***as in bags

[Verse 2]
I get booted wit my shooter
Ruin the mission, you lose wit your shooter
Bitch this real life so I move wit that ruga
I swear moe, this street shit is real
You book then your ass might get killed
A hunnid xans, hunnid perks, hunnid grams
A young n***a tryna make a mill
Q La'Flare all bout his money shit, not with that funny shit
Bitch n***a, like a girl you just run your lips
Trap n***a everyday tryna make a flip
I don't think n***as really street n***as
I don't think these n***as street n***as
I don't think these n***as street n***as
Like a book man I swear you gotta read n***as
Tryna get it, gotta wake up off the E n***a
Getcha cash man I swear I can't feed n***as
Straight hustlin', definition of a street n***a
Yeah, real street n***a
Gotta get it, off the E n***a
Getcha money, don't ask