Lyrics: Charles Davis
Music: David Meiners/Akol Ongwech
Ain't gon' lie, a **** be goin' through shit too though, man
Lost a couple of people, you **** can't tell
Not to no gun violence though
Hardbody
**** doubted me (Yeah)
Give no **** about them (Uh-uh)
We can talk 'bout Bs, but who all made two-hundred thousand? (No one)
I get fresh, don't got no stylist (No one, no one)
He on track, he need a wheel alignment
I only pop out at nighttime, Glock got flashlight, that bitch blind 'em
Pop out, like, uh, bow, bow
I don't even know how we got opps, ain't nobody did shit to us (No bap, we good)
We treat **** just like toilets, hit they blocks and leave 'em flushed (Like what, like what?)
**** tryna play dead just like Andy, you can take some, won't get up (Ha, no bap)
That's okay, big Glock gon' stand over, you know foenem do too much
Bop, bop, bop, bop, bop, bop
Drop three out, my soda Crush, make a bad bitch bubble bust
No, I cannot cuff a slut, I be somewhere cuffin' bucks
Mighta let a ho do too much, but she listen, ho, shut up
Last year when I wasn't rappin', got my hot cars, boy, you ****ed
All my savages on tweak shit, you on opp shit, that's a plus (No bap)
We lost five guys, I wish you stopped woofin', defense, that's a must (No bappin')
The world gon' stop, I was just in New York in the back recordin' a Bentley truck (No bappin', no bappin')
I was leanin' on my way back home from the stu', just crashed out, what the ****?
You swerve around, you get ****ed up, ain't gon' lie, I know it's dumb
No bap, I am a gangster, **** goofy, they be frontin'
We put **** on hangers, shout out 40, he the one (No bap)
Wintertime, I tote thirties, summertime, come with my drum
Uh, cook shit like chicken curry, **** food, we chop 'em up
Uh, no bap, I'm rich for L, where D at, I won't have a son
Call shit like Kendrick Nunn, **** can't hoop, they be buns
They can't go hat for hat or rack for rack, these tough-ass bums
We spin shit while the sun up, we been here since crack of dawn
And yo' lil' ho a thottie, she at my house, off the Don' (Lil' thot cheeks)
Boy, we do hits for fun (Lil' thot cheeks)
**** get hit, then bleed out
Bullets changin' his shirt color, these **** know what we 'bout (This shit bad)
**** know how I'm bleedin', my first mission, let off squeezin' (Uh-huh)
Every day I pray to God, but ain't gon' lie, I feel a demon (Not gon' bap)
Ain't gon' bap, I don't need no reason, ain't gon' bap, I move strategic (No mission)
Ain't gon' bap, these **** bitches, get out the way, boy, it's my season
Riches, hop off me
**** doubted me (Yeah)
Give no **** about them (Uh-uh)
We can talk 'bout B's, but who all made two-hundred thousand?
I'll get it first, I don't got no stylist
He on track, he need a wheel alignment (No one)
I only pop out at nighttime, Glock got flashlight, that bitch blind 'em
You want it? Another one, hop off
**** doubted me (Yeah)
Give no **** about them (Uh-uh)
We can talk 'bout B's, but who all made two-hundred thousand? (No one)
I get fresh, don't got no stylist (No one)
He on track, he need a wheel alignment
I only pop out at nighttime, Glock got flashlight, that bitch blind 'em
Pop some shit
Y'all know how the **** we rockin', man, this shit all the way from L.A. right now
Foenem in L.A., man, you know how the **** we comin', man, bow-bow-bow