[Intro]
You all, through your lifetime, have been subjected to the fear of death
That haunting fear of death, "what will happen to me?"
"Death is my enemy", "where will I go?", "what will I do at the hall of death?"

[Verse 1]
Bitch, I'm on zoom
Keep tryna figure me out, we ain't cool
Dont give a fuck about no feelings or rules
I tell your bitch what it is, she say "cool"
I'm off the top when I hit, but it's true
They tryna cancel me out, but I tune
They tryna park all my shit, but I cruise
Tryna win, they want me to lose
Boy, I dont give a fuck 'bout no bitch
You know who I am
I'm on the block when the money land
I was on blocks with the funny tan
Like fuck all the cops
Do the running man
I'm cooking up opps, get your pot and pan
I don't need all them stans to know who I am
I just stuffed all them bricks in the rental van
I'm good, I'm good, I'm good
Tell shawty "please pour up my foam"
I'm in the back, that's a league of my own
Don't get it back, but i keep giving more
Keep telling me "oh", they want me to blow
I'm blowing Sherbacio, feelings let go
They trying to stop me, I keep getting more
Been finding my way, don't know where to go
I'm in the field, still on ten toes
Chopping it up, once a month just to coast
I'm out of the pack and I want all the smoke
What happened to kin, we used to be folk
Get shook like a pen, I'm selling my soul
Saying you got me but never come close
I married the streets, my Glock on propose
You posting for clout, that's cute when you pose
I'm in and out, still feeling alone
[Chorus]
Keep counting me out, I'mma keep getting it in
Pour in a drought, I'm tryna feel it again (Feel it again)
They single me out, I got no feelings again, (Feelings again)
Keep counting it up, I'd rather money than friends, money than friends
No feelings again, I rather money than friends, money than friends
No feelings again, I rather money than friends, money than friends
No feelings again, I rather money than friends, money than friends
No feelings again, I rather money than friends, money than friends

[Verse 2]
Oh you mad? Good
Oh you sad? Good
Paper tags? Ugh!
Smoking gas? Ugh!
All I know is big fact, big facts
All I count is big racks, big racks
If you ain't first, you last
Tryna hold me, can't grasp
I can't hang with you wannabes
Tell the truth you wanna be
I dont fear what I'm going to be
That's in front of me, that's in front of me
All this pain it's a part of me
All this fame it's a part of me
Tryna be, all I got is me
That's in front of me
That's in front of me
[Outro]
Beat Fiends