[Intro: "Groovy Tony"]
Blank Face, tre 8, kill everybody, fuck an AK
Sell narcotics and step my dollars up to Bill Gates
Push all limits, you lookin' timid, need to back off
Punk-ass cops, them crackers want us with our black off
Thug life n***a since '96 I wanted to gang bang
Few years later I'm really from it, we were still kids
Crack off n***a, I'm squeezing empty 'til the shell break
Fuck my image I need to drop, I need to, Blank Face
[Spoken]
July 8th
[Hook]
Me no conversate with the fake, that part
All my bitches independent bitches, that part
I just want the paper, that part
All my bitches flavored
That part, that part, that part, that part
[Post-Hook]
Ayy! That part
Bang this shit in the hood one time
Lil bitch I'm back and poppin'
Tell that ugly bitch to move away, I need more options
Broke? Then fix your pockets, all I do is profit
[Verse 1: ScHoolboy Q]
Quarter million, switchin' lanes... that part
Bet my bitch move the same old thing... that part
405 with the gun off safety... that part
Ayy I'm still tryna make that plate
Rich or poor, n***a, choose your fate
Style on top of style, n***a
Five years I've been rich, n***a
Drove Beamers down Fig, n***a
Pushed Porsches down Broadway
I've been doggin' different hoes, n***a
Got a chain that's worth the Rolls, n***a
Got an engine back with the top in it
N***a drivin' it like it's a bomb in it
[Hook]
Me no conversate with the fake, that part
All my bitches independent bitches, that part
I just want the paper, that part
All my bitches flavored
That part, that part, that part, that part
[Post-Hook]
Ayy! That part
Bang this shit in the hood one time
Lil bitch I'm back and poppin'
Tell that ugly bitch to move away, I need more options
Broke? Then fix your pockets, all I do is profit
[Verse 2]
Made a mil' then I spent it in the same day
Brought a chopper, not the AK
Getting money on a vacay
Couple ranges in the driveway
Groovy Tony in July, 8th
Yeah, I'm killing kitties on a Sunday
How you balling in a Hond-ay?
Paparazzi got a toothpaste
Swerve in the big body
Your favorite artist, I'm his big homie
Yeah I'm walking with a fifth
I ain't folk, I'mma crip homie
Where the bloods? Where the locs at?
Where the bud? Where the choke brown?
Gloves for the combat
How the feds in your contacts?
How the feds in my set name?
Move smooth in a Mulsanne
Hard dread in the rap game
Heard Soulo coming up next
And SZA got a classic, uh
I heard Zay just got it mastered
The fire burning through the plastic
Some fingers to the badges
They don't love us to 'til the racks involved
When I was broke, they wouldn't accept the call
Now they on me for my decimals
Blank faces, gotta X 'em off
Enemies, gotta bob and weave
Gang banging like you said "what's up?"
And the set getting killed for nothing
Felonies, so I steal for my daughter to eat
Hoover Street, the government for me
Blank Face, hey!
[Hook]
Me no conversate with the fake, that part
All my bitches independent bitches, that part
I just want the paper, that part
All my bitches flavored
That part, that part, that part, that part
