[Intro]

(Enrgy made this one)

[Verse 1: Clean Up Man]

Bitch, I don't gotta speak on shit, the opps already know

Ran too many laps at practice, damn near popped my coach (Booth)

I'm not good at cuttin' hair, I like to fuck up fros

I'm ready to drop some hot shit with no mittens on

Every nigga ridin' in this car can't do no wrong

I'll pull up shootin' shit like MealeoStone

I call the K sledgehammer 'cause it break bones

Bitch, I'm the grim reaper, come through and take souls

I'm 'bout to sleep the day out, I got an eight poured

My boostin' bitch bring me Nike 'fits, she like to steal clothes (That bitch a thief)

Your whole team love to cap, CB4

Who thе fuck is dog? Never seen him beforе (Who the fuck is dog?)

I'm tryna zip a nigga, I'm talkin' Nike jacket

Don't come askin' for prices, 'cause I will tax you

Dog could've been in a movie, 'cause niggas real actors

Bitch, don't ask for no head, 'cause I will smack you (Smack the shit out this bitch)

If I was Will Smith, I would've killed that bitch

Her face would've had an entanglement with my fist (I would've beat her)

If I get signed, rob the industry like 50 Cent (I'm robbin' everybody)

Gramz spent 10K on a chain, he never sold a brick

Craig a good nigga, I would've popped Deebo in his shit

Gun got a speech impediment way this bitch spit

Beyblade with the Glock, I cock it, make this bitch rip

[Interlude: KrispyLife Kidd]

Yeah, alright, alright, KrispyLife

[Verse 2: KrispyLife Kidd]

Beat dog ass with a brick, I think I'm Craig

Nigga try to run and then I'm aimin' at the legs

So many Glocks around this bitch, you would thought I hang with Tez

I wrap my head in a turban and shoot like I'm from Afghanistan

Naw, I shoot like this my rookie combine

Hit your son's school and turn that fucker to the Columbine

I don't understand emojis except the dollar sign

Paranoid when I see the boys, Ty Dolla $ign

Nigga won't take shit, I got my gun and I'm cockin' mine

Only way I'm goin' to the club if I get my Glock inside

Drop my gun in the barbecue sauce in the cookout line

Oh shit, my bad, auntie

Thought I sold him soft, but it was an E pill crushed inside

Got on Guccis with no socks inside

Couldn't get in touch with nobody, so my pops gon' slide

Shotta ain't make no beat, but it made him cha-cha slide

Damn, huh, I'm on a different level

Hit a nigga with this bitch, he thought he fell into a puddle

Naw, not like that, I meant to say like—

Wet a nigga with this bitch, he thought he fell into a puddle

Your bitch'll get the balls, she don't never ever wanna cuddle