[Intro]
(Mainee)

[Chorus]
(Woah)
Money on the table, still uppin' the standard
I left that lil' boy no choice, came in with the hammer
Louis shirt, Amiri pants, dressed up like a scammer, uh
Four of Wock', three of red, pour it in a Fanta, yeah
I feel just like A.I. in that Lambo, I got handles
I feel just like Popi, too many racks, too hard to handle
I told 'em, yeah, yeah

[Verse 1]
They know I'ma get to the paper
They know I'ma get a baguettey
I told 'em don't mention my name
'Cause I ain't no regular n***a
This ain't no regular watch
This ain't no regular VIP
Ain't with no regular hoes, lil' n***a
This ain't no regular bitch
You used to sit on the block, lil' n***a
Now you got ice on your wrist
Now we can pull up in drop, lil' n***a
You get to poppin' your shit
Bread, we whippin' the hell out the brick
This ain't no regular bread
Yeah, I told these folks I was gon' raise the bar, I was the one, yeah
I told these folks I was gon' turn the trap, I did this shit hard, yeah
I told these folks money still on the table, they thought it was done, yeah
I told these folks never to play me ever, I'm not the one, yeah
[Chorus]
(Woah)
Money on the table, still uppin' the standard
I left that lil' boy no choice, came in with the hammer
Louis shirt, Amiri pants, dressed up like a scammer, uh
Four of Wock', three of red, pour it in a Fanta, yeah
I feel just like A.I. in that Lambo, I got handles
I feel just like Popi, too many racks, too hard to handle
I told 'em, yeah, yeah

[Verse 2]
They ain't wanna leave a n***a no choice
Red Lamborghini cost four Porsche
Sean got the money, bought the whole porch
Whole hood hot like a blowtorch
Too many pounds, too many
Talk 'bout the traffic, who gettin' it?
Whole lotta racks, whole crew get it
7-1-1, that crew business
Paint your trap, n***a, who in it?
Number on the dash say two-twenty
Head to the dealer, get coupe tinted
Drip like mine, ain't too many
Yeah, I'm captain 'round here, I'm lieutenant
I already know I'm due with it (Let 'em know)
I already know it's a deuce in it (Let 'em know)
Label online, yeah, two tickets (Let 'em know)
Please didn't work, had a two-fifty
Already turnt, never gon' change
Whole lotta money, I ain't never want fame
Hundred in the drop, ain't never gon' rain
Boss your ho up 'fore another n***a do it
Cut a bitch off, let a young n***a do it
N***a can't do it how a young n***a do it
Rubber band the racks, get right back to it
[Chorus]
(Woah)
Money on the table, still uppin' the standard
I left that lil' boy no choice, came in with the hammer
Louis shirt, Amiri pants, dressed up like a scammer, uh
Four of Wock', three of red, pour it in a Fanta, yeah
I feel just like A.I. in that Lambo, I got handles
I feel just like Popi, too many racks, too hard to handle
I told 'em, yeah, yeah
(Woah)
I told 'em