Lyrics: Chad Marshall/Maxie Ryles/Remy Marshall/Yosief Tafari/Sam Hurst
[Intro: Rowdy Rebel]
(Yoz, what you tellin' 'em?)
Ayy, ayy
Ayy
[Verse 1: Rowdy Rebel]
I used to pull up on niggas on sight
We used to pull up on niggas on bikes
[?] 'em, fifty suckin' at the lights
Spark 'em, Kwendo, tell that boy your knife (Boom, boom, boom)
Ain't no problems that we can't handle, it's mad, I'm hardly polite
Put on a mask, then jump on the right
Push on the gas and push on the light (Ayy)
It's mad I caught niggas here, if you from the way, them niggas bite
I'm probably on [?], if I ain't over there, I'm on the right
It's mad I put down cars, 'cause shit they spinnin', let's keep it a buck
All my real niggas from the floss that's out here spinnin', they know what's up
[Chorus: Rowdy Rebel & Fetty Luciano]
Now check my figgie, ayy, check my posture
Ayy, check my bop, that bitch gon' tell 'em that we nada, ayy
We different breeds, we from the North, we don't do bot-ups, ayy
Ayy, check the news, that boy got hit up off his Prada's, ayy (Ayy)
[Verse 2: Fetty Luciano]
Man, it's the robbers, and we back on the the yacht
I don't care what he jack, I don't care what he front
Man, if they got a problem, then they got no packs
Actin' like y'all don't know about gang
Like, real man niggas crash
Talk about hits that we did in the past
I hop out this bitch broad day with no mask
I send a shooter and I'm in, I'm with the killers, get 'em in
Any minute now, waitin' for a pen, gotta pray to the Lord before I sin
I just came back home, off a temp
Leave that whole block thinkin' "Where they went?"
Shots goin' through his window, through his tish
Let 'em know I'm on go if they split
Now check my figgie, ayy, check my posture
Ayy, check my bop, that bitch gon' tell 'em that we nada, ayy
We different breeds, we from the North, we don't do bot-ups, ayy
Ayy, check the news, that boy got hit up off his Prada's, ayy
Check my figgie, ayy, check my posture
Ayy, check my bop, that bitch gon' tell 'em that we nada, ayy
We different breeds, we from the North, we don't do bot-ups, ayy (We don't do bot-ups, Fivi')
Ayy, check the news, that boy got hit up off his Prada's, ayy (Grr, yeah, look)
[Verse 3: Fivio Foreign]
Had to stop mentionin' niggas in songs, 'cause I got too rich
('Cause I got too, 'cause I got too) Now I'm back on my shit (Baow)
You still ain't been New York in a minute
I look at the swiper, [?] gimmick
On Live, lyin', stop pretendin'
I won't even shoot you, nigga, we can get it (Baow)
I won't even tell 'em what happened
When me and Sosa ran that nigga to CVS
When I left, he was out cold
I don't know if that nigga start breathin' yet (Baow)
I've seen a friend turn into an opp
I've seen an opp talkin' to the cops
Niggas is scared goin' to the rock
Keep tweetin', put him in a box (Grr, baow)
I really went on a drill (Drill)
[?], had to steal (Had to steal)
Face hot (Face hot), fifty still (Baow)
Way before I thought I'd get a deal (Baow)
I never ran from a L7
Every time I got locked, I was still reppin'
Boy, I need the respect, the real credit
Keep it a buck, I'm built different
[Chorus: Rowdy Rebel]
Now check my figgie, ayy, check my posture
Ayy, check my bop, that bitch gon' tell 'em that we nada, ayy
We different breeds, we from the North, we don't do bot-ups, ayy
Ayy, check the news, that boy got hit up off his Prada's, ayy
Check my figgie, ayy, check my posture
Ayy, check my bop, that bitch gon' tell 'em that we nada, ayy
We different breeds, we from the North, we don't do bot-ups, ayy
Ayy, check the news, that boy got hit up off his Prada's, ayy