[Hook: Price]

I need fake niggas to get way back

Kobe Bryant number 8 got the range from way back

Throwing dirt on my name, I thought we went way back

2017, we'll take that

[Verse 1: Price]

Go started, it's winter time

Yeah that's why I'm cold-hearted

I need five million for the deal, no bargain

Hey Mr. A&R, I'm shitting on your artist

Bust my own threads, momma no more Target

And my daddy from the gardens

And he known for crushing all beef

Me, I go the hardest

Fucking over all beats

Hoping another check'll see more numbers than a call sheet

Half these rappers all week

Other half, all weak

Egg whites, chicken, sausage, toast, I need it whole wheat

I'm the type to pass and bring my winnings to my whole street

You the type to see if the water is deep with both feet

Swayin' in the Benz vroom-vroom like I don't need no brakes

I keep the grass cut low so I can see the snakes

Only want my baby Bad and Boujee like the Migos say

Looking at my son and my wife like "I'mma make sure we okay"

Looking at my city man like "I'mma make sure we okay"

My daddy in the pen, I'm praying I don't see those gates

We don't never ever pay no homage to your honor

And the only Trump we supporting is Teanna

On the real, I need fake niggas to get way back

Hot sauce with the [deranged?] braids with the wave cap

Everybody jumping ship when it got deep, stay back

And don't call it a refund when I tell you it's payback

Karma coming for them frauds that ran off and took the swag

All my exes mad that wifey live the life they could've had

Copping purses, copping dogs, eat your heart out

Your new nigga take your check and always barred out

Sucks, look at God working though

I found a Eve that ain't gon' listen to that serpent though

Bank account growing, make sure that my circle though

I need you to get way back, don't take it personal

Lose my number at that, don't take me personal

[Verse 2: Oktane]

Give me fifty feet way back

Play it back, they gon' remember me

Front row, see my shows like I'm Mr. T

On my phone touch that soul, make her miss the D

She text "hey big head," I know she missing me

Right in position, we back independently on you hoes, California pros

And we finna be on their ass, put her on her nose

If she standing up, calisthenics, make her touch her toes

Are you sure you wanna battle in this game with us

Cause new boys have checked in and couldn't hang with us

And you boys think I'm playing, stop playing with us

I push the button, unlock, them Cali crazy niggas

And I cannot associate with no more lazy niggas

And do not hit my fucking phone up if you can't pay me, nigga

Because time is money baby, I can't waste another second

I done wrote some new plans down to break a couple records

New place, few whips, and a crazy fucking necklace

Momma said don't get a chain but we be crazy fucking reckless

I been running mad risks, I been taking fucking chances

I done did my whole thing for the IE and I protected

I need fake niggas to get way back

Can't associate with lame, I been always sayin' that

My turn free flame on that Yellow Flame track

My Turn 3 is free, next round pay it back

Oktane, what's up

[Outro]

What's up, what's up, what's up