Lyrics: Karon Vantrees/Steven Dale Lewis II
Music: Karon Vantrees/Steven Dale Lewis II
Producer: Tana
You know I—
You know what the **** goin' on, man
You know niggas hate, I really be—
Yeah (Haha)
Done sayin' I'm rich, nigga 'cause I don't talk about old shit (I don't talk about old shit)
Niggas swear I'm gon' fall off, they gon' keep bein' disappointed
I could've played for the Pistons team, but I keep failin' my drug test
Nowadays I ain't runnin' game, she gon' try to **** 'fore I flirt with her
Walk in, how the light hit, man, my chain's shine like a bald head (Shine)
Painkillers in the Goyard, man, I treat it like a first aid kit (Uh)
10k for an outfit, too much aura, can't blend in (Add me up)
[?] cost a new Drac', got a 5 Gen and it [?]
Auntie get an eight a month, I'm just sittin', waitin' for her refill
Ol' Red in a cream soda, man, this shit taste butter pecan (Woo)
That's your hoe? I ain't know, bro, got her name written on the throat list
Caught 'em lackin' with his pants down, that's your ass now, Mr. Postman (Bah)
Everyday like a birthday, got me feelin' like an old man (Yeah)
Bring it back like a test drive, pussy weak and the throat mid (Yeah)
I just spilled a lil' Quay cup, can't cry, gotta buy again (Nope)
Trap [?] the same numbers, can't lie, I don't like 12 (Nope)
My bad, that's your bitch, dog? She just on the ****ed once list
I'm the type to get you slimed out, post a pic like I ain't did shit (Slatty)
Truck divin', it's a Maybach, feel like granny in a rocking chair (Yeah)
They was tryna shoot my lit wrist, they was tryna kill the president
Broke nigga don't say shit, talk money, I don't waste breath
Skipped right to the Hall of Fame, they should write my name in the Naismith
Steph Curry with a drink pint, ask around, niggas score from anywhere
I don't **** [?] days, I don't go to 'cause I did it then
Sure feel good to be here, Lam' truck, Shawty Lo playin'
Real playa, long pinky nail, brick stamped like we sendin' mail
Pussy good, got no smell, I ain't kiss but she gon' tell (Yeah)
Havin' stripes like Joe Burrow, havin' syrup like Cracker Barrel
Was chillin' now it's **** that, niggas hate, make 'em more mad (Yeah)
Hoes broker than some porch pirates, switch faster than a moped
Crew jumped on your coattail, my crew [?]
Baby bottle with the Chrome frames, lil' Chuckie from the Rugrats
I was born in a drug lab, dope boy with a gold plaque
Crazy ass got no status, but he's still askin' where the hoes at (What?)
I done ran up a few mill' but I'm tryin' to get a deal with Hov at (Know that)
See a nigga gettin' backends now she wanna child like NoCap
I'ma ball like every night, you should put my name on your PrizePick
My bad, that's your hoe, dog? She just on the **** first night list
Sippin' drank while the plane lift, smokin' drugs from the Cali' trip
Wock' sealed, all I want is you for Christmas like Mariah Carey, no cap
Mastering Engineer: Michael "MikFly" Dottin
Vocals: Veeze