[Intro]

(Ooh, Rell)

(Are you in the mafia?)

(Am I in the what?)

(Whatever you wanna call it; Organized crime)

(I’m in the waste management business, everybody immediately assumes you’re mobbed up, it's a stereotype)

[Chorus]

I'm doin' two hundred in a Trackhawk

Bro just spilled a whole zip of weed when I stabbed off

We pull up with all sticks like we play for the Blackhawks

Ordered two McDoubles, I told 'em hold the Mac Sauce

'Cause I'ma put my own fetti in 'em, I don't leave 'em raw

[Verse]

I don't want no petty ass order, I'ma need 'em all

Her tits don't sit up like I like, she gon' need a bra

Bro just pulled up in a Scat' askin' me where it's at

Say yo' shooter on that, we'll turn him to a pack

My bitch from the 'Raq on a flat

Quake and rock, twist her Act', my drink man he on deck

You CashApp'ed her yo last, why the fuck you send her that?

We know it's 'bout some pape' if we ever interact

If I don't like the ice cubes, you know I send 'em back

She suck it on sight when she see me, I just sit back

My whole outfit cost a kick knack

Four AR clips together like a Kit Kat

I got a baller belly not a six pack

If you ever up on me, I need my lick back

If she ever see me, you won't get yo' bitch back

Took two of mine, we forever gettin' getback

Watch how you run up, bro'll throw a nigga shit back

Yo mans lookin' broke, nigga, fix that

Bitch, who you fuckin'? What you drive? Where you live at?

I know I can't see where yo' waist, but where yo' wrist at?

He ain't seen his ho in a minute, where his bitch at?

I came by myself the barbecue a nigga kickback

I don't need no intro, you hoes know I been that

I see you got the Dweller, DameDot, where you get that?

Bitch how many vendors do you got on yo' WhatsApp?

I hit the bitch hard from the back, make her cuss at me

She suck my dick so good, I ain't even wanna fuck after

I was so in shock, I forgot to even CashApp her

I told all my niggas 'bout the shit and we laughed at her

Cup so muddy

A sixteen of trench, got the shit from Lil' Cuddy

All blues in my pocket but I'm ridin' with my bloody

Got a text from a bad bitch, she told me slut her

How is I'm a democrat when I'm goin' to the republic?

I just spent ten bands for nothin'

Bro'll blow yo' bitch ass in public

Beat the case like Gucci, make you niggas change the subject

Skrrt

I'm doin' two hundred in a Trackhawk

Nigga, tell the truth, you ain't fell back, you fell off

If I sell a thousand of these vezzos, I'm well off

Yeah, but you know me, I'ma need a thousand more

I'm only gon' be here for a minute then I'm out the door

Walk in the mansion, let her count the pros

[Chorus]

I'm doin' two hundred in a Trackhawk

Bro just spilled a whole zip of weed when I stabbed off

We pull up with all sticks like we play for the Blackhawks

Ordered two McDoubles, I told 'em hold the Mac Sauce

'Cause I'ma put my own fetti in 'em, I don't leave 'em raw