[Intro]

(Fony wallace biatch)

(You're a goner)

[Chorus]

Miss one shot, wonder where my aim at

Reticle highlight on his head like a face tat

Shots gonna turn him into Soulja, how we crank that

Drive by 120 like we on a racetrack

My pockets get fatter, they look like Rick Ross

He talkin' stupid get slapped up, he look like Chris Rock

My meat gon' drag cross her face like she put on lip gloss

She throw it back to my song and post it on TikTok

[Verse]

That boy catchin' knuckles, throwin' punches like I'm Floyd

You know I'm swervin' lanes, causin' crashes out the Royce

Shawty suck me up, usе her mouth, lose her voicе

And my choppa shake him up, it gonna leave him Cameron Boyce

He gettin' chin checked in the pit, I've had enough

Shawty likin' how I taste, so, I sit it on her tongue

He get smoked like a vape, ho, we hittin' his lungs

Straight chillin' in the wraith, wanna street race or some?

Wanna street race or some, I'ma put him on the curb

I'ma let my weapon talk, I'ma let that .30 burst

This extendo on the Glock gonna double how it hurts

Yeah, I'm screamin' for some cash you still gotta go to work (Haha)

Uh, take my money out the ATM

Bought another chopper now I'm slayin' like its pay to win

Uh, yeah, I made a major M

Hittin' every shot like Kobe now the Lakers win (What?)

And my shawty so bad, she hittin' higher notes

13 shots hit him, man, we did him like Silento

Creepin' down the building, yeah, I know it's gettin' quiet though

Shoutout Tony Stark, bro I'm toting on an iron pole

[Chorus]

Miss one shot, wonder where my aim at

Reticle highlight on his head like a face tat

Shots gonna turn him into Soulja, how we crank that

Drive by 120 like we on a racetrack

My pockets get fatter, they look like Rick Ross

He talkin' stupid get slapped up, he look like Chris Rock

My meat gon' drag cross her face like she put on lip gloss

She throw it back to my song and post it on TikTok

[Outro]

(Fony wallace biatch)

I'ma turn him to a dead man

Straight headshots, hit his head man

Keep a glick tucked and a vest man

If he switch up, blow his head in

Yeah, someone had to let you know

I be lurkin' in the night check the window

I be wearing all black match the tint, ho

My hoe foreign she be matching with the whip, bruh