[Intro: Q Da Fool]
Ah
Yeah
Ah
Yeah

[Verse 1: Q Da Fool]
I just keep having visions
I'm selling work in the stu working man I need a assistant
We gon slide on you while you on the porch imma show that I'm wit it
I'm wit it
I started rapping cause I'm gifted
Stir the flow up with the goop I be mixing
These n***as not real they fiction
Pop a xan you on a high hoe
Come over bring your night clothes
If you ride the dick good I might buy you some gold
You see these red bottoms they came out the bowl
Yeah
I give the streets my life I gave it my soul
HB and Santana and I gave more

No I'm not perfect bitch, but I need a perfect bitch
Off white when I hit the scene
I be merking shit
Maryland n***a I be shooting them shells
Just like a turtle little bitch
And every time I find a loyal female I gotta hurt the bitch
Damn
Never back bite your bruva
Just sit down and talk to your n***a
I'm getting high while I'm watching your house I'm really hawking my victims
I told my bitch we need need a new couch The old couch the pistols don't fit em
N***as ask me how the fuck do I do it they want me give em a system
I'll die for bruva
A hunnit grand for my sister
That draco a street sweeper
That calico bend like a pumper
N***as dumping style to run it
7-6-2 leave your bullet hole size of some funyuns
Largo Road apartments thats my dungeon
Stop talking all crazy n***a you just stuntin'
M4, M3 yeah bitch them siamese
Walked out the club with a dime piece
So many bitches could've been a gigolo
Fuck with the plug hard cause his ticket low
These n***as signing deals getting railroad
Taking pictures with the fans do the jail pose
Kill the n***a leave the n***a wit a red rose
I'm just doing what a real trill n***a pose
Rob, kill, steal what a street n***a pose...to do
I don't know who you listen.. to
But them boys misguided you
Yeah
If you wanna ride, bitch ride wit me
Artillery, artillery yeah that shit ride wit me
Put your hands up n***a this a robbery
Your baby momma say you salting me
You smile in my face tryin' talk to me
Damn
Thought you gon' ride wit me
Bust down my first brick you was there wit me
Seen a n***a gettin money don't wanna share wit me
Yall keep saying that these n***as real...that shit rare to me
These n***as not really playing wit they pistols
I keep my pistol you ain't scaring me
I stay down like gravity
At my shows bitches scream and grab at me
If I die bitch it's gon be a tragedy
N***as slidin put it in that bag for me
Switch up on a loyal n***a that's sad to me
Uh
Had to cut off a cut off a close fuck n***a
If you knew that bitch n***a you wouldn't be mad at me