[Intro]

(Enrgy made this one)

[Verse 1: BabyTron]

I'm sick I picked this lil' bitch, her friend look better

Yeah, I heard you got some dime hoes, my tens look better

Shit, they perfect, ain't they?

Track' tinted, if they pull us over, they gon' search it, ain't they?

Shit, I know them hoes probably up in the party twerkin', ain't they?

On your roof or in your bushes, shit, them boys lurkin', ain't they?

Mega guns up in the minivan, them boys purgin', ain't they?

If I hop up out the 'vert, these hoes, they gon' slurp it, ain't they?

Used to have to tell 'em step by step

Used to have to tell 'em step by step, shit, they learnin', ain't they?

I ain't seen no proof that they up, them boys hurtin', ain't they?

Your bitch seen us in the mall like, "Damn, them boys splurgin', ain't they?"

Ain't that? Like, shit, aren't we?

We secured alpha and bravo, now we hittin' charlie

It was eaters in the basement, now the gang hittin' Barbies

Huh, these hoes still eaters, though

Time to upgrade your kit, even my pinky finger froze

Iceman, shit, I'm George Gervin with the finger roll

Where the, where the, where the fuck did my two-liter go?

Poured an eight on Eight Mile, woke up lost on Cedar Grove

Bitch just turned eighteen, already sellin' pussy

Spinned last night, his fam and them already sellin' hoodies

Told the Girl Scouts to leave the spot, already sellin' Cookies

Took his Glocky, he thought we was sellin' fullies, sellin' woodies

We got French fluffies in, lil' bitch, we sellin' bullies

Smellin' like some zotty, Action Impact wouldn't sell me bullets

Tell a bitch that I probably wanna fuck if she catch me lookin'

Everybody with me got a belt, come on and catch these whoopings

That's my lil' ho job, you won't catch me cookin'

Unless 12 behind on foot, you won't catch me bookin'

Shit, it's time to mark your calendars and set your clocks

Set a reminder for the shootin' squad to bend your block

You ain't gon' send no shots, you ain't gon' press no opps

If I give your ass the hit list, you ain't gon' check no box

Whip futuristic, doors opened when I said, "Unlock"

Buy a bando, fuck the renovation, we gon' set up shop

Live from the trap, just drivin' by, you'd probably think it's empty

I just copped a four for four, but hell nah, I ain't eatin' Wendy's

On my way to Tide's dry cleaners, drinkin' lean get messy

Soda dark as midnight, you would probably think it's Pepsi

Hard to guard him like he Harden, shooter on the wing a lefty

Dunkin' on these hoes while catchin' plays, shit, I need an ESPY

Told my bitch to grab the switch and shoot it like she Lisa Leslie

Need to chill on jewelry, whole time thinkin' that I need a presi'

What my baby 40 say? I know the lean'll catch me

If I can't rap or scam, then I know the fiends'll bless me

The forecast mostly cloudy, but the kit shinin'

She get everything she want, like, why this lil' bitch whinin'?

Why this lil' bitch lyin'? I don't care that much

Get the drop and air that up, we gon' tear that up

You the type to make a forty ball and swear that's up

You think your team the chosen ones, but I can swear that's us

Your juice plug only had a deuce, but you would swear that's clutch

That ain't enough, that ain't enough, that ain't enough

[Verse 2: TrDee]

Shoes cost a nigga car note, so I'm walkin' different

Doggy bone fold under pressure, knock him off his pivot

Talkin' like the kingpin, but he ain't even got no wheels

I don't give a fuck about your problems, I ain't Dr. Phil

Pull down and get your shit painted, shooter pimp your ride

Took her to Miami, she ain't never been to Ocean Drive

I ain't never trippin', I'm just thankful that I'm still alive

Niggas grimy, know that that's your bitch and they still'll slide

Mix and match designer, I can play it any way I want

I'ma fuck around and drop a presi' and forget to vote

She like, "Baby, they ain't fuckin' with you, I swear you the G.O.A.T."

I just spent a nigga down payment on a winter coat

Check my résumé, I'm really him, you ain't hip

Talkin' 'bout you in the deep end, you a shrimp

Pass the play to Tron, he gon' dunk it, Shawn Kemp

Damn, what's in this 'Wood? I think I'm higher than a blimp (Damn)

Room full of ballers that ain't make it to the league

It ain't even fire, why you taxin' for the weed?

Shooter get on point, so everybody call him Steve

I be smokin' zobbers, it be kinda hard to breathe

In Milwaukee with them bucks, I kinda feel like Dame and Giannis

Gang and them'll pull up with that baby Drac', but not Adonis

You not even in our category, nigga, let's be honest

You know, you should know the answer if I ask you who the hottest

It should be rhetorical, these niggas ain't no competition

You can't use your bitch card, before you do, you need permission

I ain't worried 'bout these bitches 'cause I'm really on a mission

Could've really put you on, I was mad that you ain't listen

I'ma run it up again, that ain't enough

I'ma ball on 'em some more, that ain't enough

You gon' have to show me more, that ain't enough

That ain't enough, that ain't enough, that ain't enough