[Intro]
G6, yeah

[Verse]
Got this shit jumpin' like a crackhouse, Rovers and them 'Lacs out
Ballin' like Stackhouse, talk shit, get packed out
I was on a money chase, yeah, I took that fast route
All these rappers garbage to me, time to take the trash out
Rappers claimin' they rich before they take their tax out
Black card swipin' shit, and could never max out
50 for the walk-through, you know that it's packed out
If I do a show in your city, that's a packed house
Tryna mack on Jordyn Woods, slid into her DM twice
Tryna see what that be like, told her I could change her life
Call my n***a Tip, like, "Is it cool to wear this Gucci now?"
'Cause this Gucci shirt been in my closet hanging for a while
Hit Miami just to get a tan, then I bounce back
Designer on my feet, and a name, you can't pronounce that
Call my weed man like "I need weed and you can ounce that
And dawg, after I smoke it down, you know I'm coming right back"
32 years old, my n***a, but I'll still look 16
Chunkin' up the 5, n***a, you know what that shit mean
Bullet never on me, it's on the homie, hands stay clean
Side bitch trippin' on me, always wanna make a scene
So I take that bitch shoppin', shut up all that hollerin'
Fashion Nova plus some good dick solve all her problems when
She be gettin' on my nerves, dawg, hit her with the curve, dawg
Love the way she throw that pussy at me like a curveball
Crap table, yeah, I had to double up (Double up)
All my bitches bad and they down to fuck (Down to fuck)
Every time I drop you know that's platinum plus (Platinum plus)
Bosses at the table, you can't sit with us
I thought I told you, boy, you know that it's over, boy
Had the biggest comeback, feeling like I'm Soulja Boy (Who, Draco?)
Took a couple months off, n***a, I was gettin' bored
Two-hundred-thou' a show just for me to go on tour
Talk shit but back it up, money come, we bag it up
Five million, six million, eight million, boy, I'm up
Jail cell this year, I've been through a lot of shit
N***a tried to sabotage the name but y'all ain't stoppin' shit
Pimpin' told me some ho on the music, dawg, just drop the shit
Told him I was nervous, I was thinkin' twice 'bout droppin' it
Got a couple label meetings, album, yeah, shoppin' it
Y'all been begging for this shit, I hope you muh'fuckas coppin' it
I'm in Queens, n***a, shoppin' at the Coliseum
Walkin' outta GB's in some kicks you never seen
(Queens) Street corner store, you know where I'm close to that
Bad bitch, fat ass, walkin' past a laundromat
Short shorts, all that, said her name was Britney
She be hangin' out in Baisley, she probably fucked 50
Hold up, let that bitch breathe...a'ight, let's get to it
Say you gettin' money but your team starvin'
Custom chain and watch, it came from Ben Baller
Ex-fiancée on my line, this bitch still callin'
Shit, I wonder if her n***a know she still stalkin'
Brrr, brrr, brrr, nah, I ain't pickin' up
Send her straight to voicemail like I don't give a fuck
A lot of goals I gotta reach and I ain't lettin' up
Call Smack, I need a battle, yeah, the bet is up