[Intro: RTB MB]

(AJ, you iced up?)

Yeah, RTB, nigga

Come on

[Verse 1: RTB MB]

Stephen A., I got my Smith with me

Threw a opp off the glass to my mans, we finna get litty

In New York, boy, I probably got your bitch with me

If you ain't up a couple hundred, nigga, you can't sit with me

She want some cheese, I have nothing

She want some cheese, I have nothing

I'm in Houston screamin' R.I.P. Whitney

Every time she climax, girl, you know I'm tryna hit Kenny

Gilbert Arenas, I'm in the locker room with blick with me

Like I'm always playin' 2K with the Heat, yeah, I keep a stick with me

Told her that I love her 'cause she down to hit a lick with me

Oh, I forgot they want sports bars

I feel like Dame or James when I step back

Disrespectful, at a Yankees game with a Mets hat

Feel like D-Rose, I overcame every setback

40 hit him all angles, over-under, nigga, bet that

Sold a fin to KDeezy, said they finna bring the Nets back

Okay, okay

They tried to kick me out the game, DeMarcus Cousins how I crept back

Spin the block with TECs, you be chillin' where the refs at

She like, "Boy, you tryna fuck," I'm like, "Oh, you guessed that"

Feel like Biggie, I'll hit a nigga—

Feel like Biggie, I'll hit a nigga girl where he slept at

Damn, I mean where he sleep at

Out in Kansas City juggin' stores, nigga, where the Chiefs at

Feel like Bobby Portis, nigga

Feel like Bobby Portis, if you try me, I'll knock your teeth back

Nigga, stop playin', nigga

Yeah, rest in peace V. Roy

If you in Portland, we gon' trail, then blaze your whip, call me B. Roy

Thought I had a Glock, I got a Drac', that's a decoy

My niggas countin' pape' 'til they sore, we don't sleep, boy

You said you had a G-Wag', I saw you in a Jeep, boy

You can't even look inside my whip, it make the "Eeh" noise

I'ma shoot my shot from the trey if I see Coi

You ain't got no bitches at the party, we gon' leave, boy

[Interlude: RTB MB]

We out, nigga, come on

RTB, nigga

[Verse 2: Terry Rozier]

The bitch couldn't wait to cook for me, she made me rice, but I ain't Jerry

I'm feelin' like George, she asked which one, bitch, not Larry

I ain't Jeffrey either, and I'm way better than my pops

Her head a ninety-nine overall, so in my phone, she J.J. Watt

And Moses always got the drop, so I'ma place him in that slot

(Man, AMB, shit, who you done, nigga?)

Chum might spark up in the locker room, who you smokin'? This the one, nigga

I'm on the road with Dip, we don't steal sauce, we just run shit

I'm tryna think 'bout who the fuck play sports

I know a youngin, he don't know no better, he wore Barkleys to court

Judge seen 'em, she was sick, she said, "You know that this your last chance"

He out on bond, nigga walked out and did the Ray Lewis dance

Shit, I can serve you with racks, I don't play tennis, but it's in my chain

Your boy do nothin' in the fourth, he copped an eighth after the damn game

I swear he lame as fuck

Bro caught bodies and switched the sneaks, oh, he P.J. Tuck'

I'm makin' money in the air, come get Bourré trapped

And hella P's hit the block, we call that Warren Sapp

And I ain't Warren G

I be with big B's way more than Papi Ortiz

The only TECs that we shoot far from off the streets

Eight for the purple, it was sweet, so I bought some more

Nigga, eight for the purple, with a route, I'm out in Baltimore

I told TT, "Man, go'n and make ESPN"

Really matter in Kentucky, hell nah, I ain't with BBN

Ayy, and rest in peace Pop Smoke

We dodgin' out in LA, Took and Herb, them my favorite Locs

Yeah, and I don't really mess with 2K

Only thing in common, I'm in the league and I got two K's

[Outro: Terry Rozier]

Come on

Ayy, I'm just tryna make ESPN, man

GMB, MB, what up?

Midwest