[Intro: CJ Nickola$]

Hey what's up y'all

CJ Nickolas back at it again, you know what I'm saying

GUCCIPRADABOYS, GPB

Shouts out Rey Dolla Springz, know what I'm saying man

It's the movement, Gucci Prada all over your fucking kitchen sink, everywhere, know what I'm saying

Let's get it

[Verse 1: CJ Nickola$]

Coming again, gripping the pen

No ink in the bitch so I had to pretend

Mind boggling hat tricks

Cocaine on my mattress

Fendi on my dick all the way to the jacket

Yeah, fuck a letterman

Fuck all these veterans

Proving shit calls to me like rednecks call venison

Y'all know I'm the better man

Ask who got weapons, man

Ask who the youngest

And ask who do numbers, man

Numbers like count on me to outdo your salaries

Fifteen years old, fucking hoes on your balcony

APC Denim with Polo Sport Rugbies

Bodying shit, coroners couldn't touch me

Out of luck like the month just turned April

Certified shit homie, status is papal

Trees what I'm growing, you know it ain't maple

Under 18 so that shit can't be rape, pull

Down the pants and let me do the magic

Professional pipe layer, no need to panic

She see the boy got her ovaries dancing

Deliver the dick and proceed to practice

Enough of that shit

Before she goes bat-shit

Get too carried away, might break the mattress

Off the sticky, shit's so serene

Sipping on mouthwash, Listerine

Look at me bitch, I'm a goddamn fiend

Run up on me, you ain't going nowhere

Hi-tech taste posted up in my lair

Bapestas on deck, bitch, oh I'm so rare

Pull her away, bro, she starting to stare

Stacking the gwop like my name was La Flare

Soon to be rich, call this rap shit my niche

And call me, A slumdog millionaire

Rolling, smoking, ain't ever stopping

Ecstacy is what I'm fucking popping

Posted up with that bloody pick-axe

So you know I'm finna push some fucking wigs back

Realest ever bitch, where the list that?

Top five, no doubt, platinum wristwatch

My clout, you're going to need a crane to lift that

Bitch