Lyrics from Snippet

[Verse 1: Westside Gunn]
-dinners, tryna make the eight figures (Ah)
I hate n***as

[Verse 2: Stove God Cooks]
Ah, I went Bobby on the digital
I got the W, I got a rental Four
How many bricks? Fourty-four like Derrick Coleman with the Sixes
Who sick as us? Who sick as Stove?
Stockton with the pick and roll
My young boy hop out shooting, do you n***as wrong
Rick James with the powder, kilo wrappers on the counter
Fuck what they pay I don't really care about they numbers
What you gon' charge [?] I buy like a thousand of 'em
Two tone Bentley continental
Is you really the plug or you the middle?
He blew trial and was praying for acquittal
Thе ear to the stove, I'm thе prince, I'm the symbol
Take that other door off, we gon' fit 'em all
Is it fire or is it fentanyl?
He say, "it don't matter, as long as we get it off"
And when they overdosed, it make 'em get it more
But don't say nothing, we got the whole thang jumping-