[Chorus: JID]

You don't give a damn, then we don’t give a fuck

On God, I been waitin' for one of y'all pussy niggas to buck

Still starving, ribs touching

Touch the team and you get touched like homescreen buttons

Hoes scream loud, Jennifer Hudson when them thangs start bustin’

Alright

[Verse 1: JID]

Shit talkin', slick talk

Pissed off, stick talk

Diss track, get mad

Rap niggas big trash

Your squad, my squad

Mismatched, pissants

Cheese chase, gym rats

Picture paint, Rembrandts

Tree trunk, thin branch

I leave, come back

This fall, this all y'all niggas done came up with?

My, what a bit of a change up

These niggas lame, we in minimal danger

I got the banger, just give me the names

My nigga put me in the game and I'm ready to flame, I'm anxious

Put the motherfuckin' bank on it

[Verse 2: J. Cole]

Big nuts hangin', big bucks bringin', fuck ’em all

No slut shamin’, money in the Cayman, I'm appalled

Niggas swear they bangin’, feds got 'em singin' on the squad

Crack rock slangin' on blacktop pavement, tryna ball

Line ’em up on the wall, three deep, final call

Knee-deep, squeeze three, beep beep, Tylenol

Pulled up one deep, no squad, just me

Just God, no prob', real niggas tend to fuck with me

No jewelry, no stunt from me

Just a Bentley truck, and an empty cup of whatever that is

You too concerned 'bout how clever that is

Me, I'm concerned how much bread that it is

Or lettuce that is

I been got my mama out debt off of this

I'm fucking the game, you niggas is lame

You won't even get a little head out of this

Bet I'ma miss, you niggas is dense, my hits goin' over the fence

How is you niggas so rich? I'm not so convinced, my wrist costin' more than your whip

And I don't wear that no more, that shit there look tacky

Yeah, I'm the G.O.A.T., no nigga, don't at me

Put on your coat, the world gon' get colder

This is my year, don't say I ain't told you, nigga

[Chorus: JID]

You don't give a damn, then we don't give a fuck

On God, I been waitin' for one of y'all pussy niggas to buck

Still starving, ribs touching

Touch the team and you get touched like homescreen buttons

Hoes scream loud, Jennifer Hudson when them thangs start bustin'

[Interlude: Vince Staples]

Ayy, ayy, nigga, ayy, ayy

Ayy, yo, uh-uh

Ayy, yo

Ayy, ain't this that, um...

Ayy, ain't this the Dreamville shit? This the, um...

[Verse 3: Vince Staples]

I had a dream, I had a Glock, I had a beam, run it back

I had a dream, she in Celine, I'm in Supreme, run it back

Y'all had the dream, I had the guap, I hit the green, run it back

Ready to go, ready to score, ready for war, run it back

I'm finna bring the summer back

I'm finna bring the Hummer back

Snuck my gun in the function

I bust, he not coming back

Dummy racks, hundred stacks

Police killed 'bout a hundred blacks

Don't get killed tryna run a lap

Nigga, don't get killed tryna run a...