[Chorus]
Everything I do is like a masterpiece from God
I'm my own shooter so you know I keep that rock
Call of Duty stick, look like it came from some box
When I got these bands man, n***as started actin' odd
Smokin' on green thing I'm smokin' outside
I be with the gang bitch, I be really with my squad
Puttin' your trust in that bitch, n***a you're a retard
Burberry smell like blueberry pop tart
They be like "damn he make beats" I'm like yes I prod'
Play my music in the studio and I watch them heads nod
Play my music for the crowd and the crowd just applaud

[Verse]
Swear to god this legit money, baby girl I ain't doin' no fraud
Bitch my gang be shootin' shit, thеy don't need tripods
Reminiscin' about bein' a kid when wе was on the i-Pods
The way I'm doin' this shit, it ain't nun' to me man
I'm doin' what I want and you doin' what you can
You know that you a bitch if you even take that stand
I got bad things in the club, I got shooters on command
I'm a young black, rich n***a, I could make a hunnid' grand
Your sound gon' fall of quicker, I might have a hunnid' plans
Dark liquor or white liquor, it don't matter, it's in my hand
She said "what the fuck, you done turned into a alcoholic man"
I'm like, hell nah, I just get lit, I just do it cause' I can
Lambo truck n***a not no Ram
This legal money I don't scam
I'm up at five am, recordin' nun' but gems
I'm up at five am, tryna' take out these stems
I'm hoppin' in the ride but no I ain't no pimp
No I ain't no pimp, but no I ain't no simp
Smokin' dope that's him
How could you be broke? Man you trim'
All of my n***as, man all of my family, fuck it [?]
N***as love fake, woulda' thought it was real
Eat off your plate, baby takin' your meal
Speedin' fast so I don't got no chill
Got in a 360 windmill
Yall ain't know dem' lil kids
Pistol on me, yeah that lil' reel
Hop in that whip for a thrill
Bitch you cannot tell me how to feel
Who was that n***a you fuckin', forreal?
You fuckin' these n***as, oh that's how you feel?
Choppa' hittin', where your Fortnite shield?
My nephew say that he want oatmeal
[Chorus]
Everything I do is like a masterpiece from God
I'm my own shooter so you know I keep that rock
Call of Duty stick, look like it came from some box
When I got these bands man, n***as started actin' odd
Smokin' on green thing I'm smokin' outside
I be with the gang bitch, I be really with my squad
Puttin' your trust in that bitch, n***a you're a retard
Burberry smell like blueberry pop tart
They be like "damn he make beats" I'm like yes I prod'
Play my music in the studio and I watch them heads nod
Play my music for the crowd and the crowd just applaud