Verse 1:
Lavish Givem Hell!
Broke ahh nigga
Stop hittin my phone bout bank information
Don’t fall for da scam
Look at dis jewelry
My diamonds be hittin
My diamonds be shinin
They flash for da cam
Just took a private jet out of Atlanta
Straight to L.A , I feel like a ram
I was looked over, blew on da gram
Now you tellin yo friends
You know who I am
Don’t wanna die, do not play with me
You a side, give a fuck if you lay with me
Shoot out da roof, I got scrap wit me
I want all da smoke, that’s a guarantee
That’s a guarantee
Sticks on sticks, hits on hits, whips in whips
Licks on licks, bitch on bitch
If she on go, of course imma slide
No Bonnie and Clyde
No tears in my eyes
No more can I cry
No keys for my ride
No more can I hide
No more can I try
How you gone ask for diamonds and pearls
Dior and Chanel
You ain’t even da side
No I ain’t gay
Ya I got a Birkin
The fanny too small for the guns I be totin
When I rap about bodies
I do not be joking
Niggas be bitches
The nuts they be holding
Chorus: Do It (Repeats)
Verse 2:
Pull up in track hawk, dash off liKe a nascar
Shoot out da window and drive off
Come at me wrong, one shot
Leave ya patna on the sidewalk
Neva tuckin my chain even in da ghetto
Make the chopper sing Lala like I’m Melo
Get smoked like a rello
Get shot ain't talkin jello
I’m wit da gang, we deep like a hill
No stiletto
Tote this 30 for my safety but I swear it ain’t on safety
When my bullet hit, yeah you losing air Tom Brady
Man imagine feeling cold and ya vision gettin hazy
Now you in a body bag, on a stretcher going to grady
Yellow diamonds look like piss
Shoot to kill, I won’t miss
When I step, I’m on blitz
Wit my dawg like I’m Vick
Kill yo dawg like you wick
Down below Roddy rich
Srt whippin hellcats Ian dodgin shit
This nigga want me dead homie, same nigga become yo dead homie(2x)
In the stu,I pour my drank, all my cups doubled up
Peep everything you rap about
Nigga you ain’t tough
It’s some shit that I done did if I say will lock me up
123 racks for a feature ain’t enough
I just need a moment to speak how I’m feeling
Mic like a drug, fuck a label, I ain’t dealing
Imma dog when I ride , my head through ceiling
Nigga tried me, next day
Same nigga went missing
Staying 10 toes, I don’t need no help
Real smoke, mask on, make you silent by myself
Grandma gone
Brudda gone
Cousin gone
Auntie gone
Uncle gone
Patna gone
You can’t tell me bout no death
Chorus: Do It (Repeats)
This nigga want me dead homie, same nigga become you dead homie (4x)