[Intro]

Laykx (Ayy)

Redboi shit, you know what the fuck going on, man

Ayy, 2020 takeover, man, you know what the fuck going on

Y'all niggas be squealing to the Jakes

Let's do it

[Verse]

Off of the Wock' in a coma, we in a Rover

Four in the back with the toaster

Meiro, he gripping that .30

We slapping the stick and you do what we say, no controller

I'm coming over to fuck

You coming over, she tell you she want you to hold her

My niggas love to get over

You got the racks and my niggas pull up like a chauffeur

I'ma go get me a Bentley, BB on the buckle

Or maybe just throw on the Fеndi

Niggas, they filled up with envy

If you got a problеm, it's fifty rounds up in this semi

Who wanna tweak? (Tweak)

I'll even call sis, and this be your last night like you Diddy

It can get tricky

When bullets start flying, you better get down or get with me

LV be giving me powers, dust off the belt

These some jiggas got me up for hours

I just might drop me a xanny (Xanny)

Let it dissolve, that shit kinda taste a lil' sour (Sour)

I'm high, I'm up with the towers

Think that's your bitch? Well, nigga, I think that it's ours

.30 clip, shoot us a movie

Talk on the net, but ain't show nigga you was a coward

Two fake accounts getting busy (Busy)

Go and load up at the bank

Yeah, my niggas stay with me (They with me)

Love to them bitches be bustin' (They bustin')

Two for the twenty, but I don't know, you seeming iffy

I'ma have K2 go zoo him for all of his racks

I'm the man, so I'm thinking I'm fifty

Trust me, my niggas get sitchy

Got me a navy, so I got a Glock with a switchy

Coupe switching (Skrrt)

Where I leave my cup, I think my Act missing

Probably left it right next to my Wock

Man, I be Yac sipping

Run off with the pack and, bitch, it's

"Fuck you, I be pack flipping" (Fuck you)

All your racks missing (Ayy)

K2 wiped them off, we ain't splitting

Reckless in the building, everybody stop and stare (They stop and stare)

All this money, now your bitch all under me like underwear (Underwear)

All these fake ass fucking rappers, time to pull a fucking chair

Like y'all ain't living what y'all rapping, y'all don't even fucking care

Since a shorty, we been trapping

We ain't have no shit to wear (To wear)

Now it's Gucci on my collar, but it's hate all in the air

Like when you make it out the mud

You got no choice, you gotta share

Y'all weren't with me from the jump

Y'all said my music wasn't clear (Bitch)

Groupie bitch, she hit my phone

And she get blue when I don't answer (Thot)

Yeah, I tote the SIG, you want some smoke, we give you cancer

Exotic bowls from Carlos, only smoke exotic dancers

Your bitch, we ran her

Kicked her out, we got no manners

Late nights we was posted

We was loaded with them .40 cals (40s)

We got forty down, we give no zip if four gon' blow him down

Copping, chasing sacks since we was jits

No, he ain't stopping now

With Moe, he in the back

He brought the Xannies, now I'm slowing down

Bitch, I'm Balenci' stepping, uh

And I still tote my weapon (Ayy)

We got bullets, send you to the master in less than a second

Pull up on his block and make him freeze

We got that nigga guessing

Cocking back, lil' bro, he get to sweating

Give his ass eleven

Trackhawk get to shredding (Skrrt)

Niggas solid, they ain't never telling (Never)

I can't get a timeout from the money, I ain't never resting

Eazzyy, where you heading? (Huh?)

To the top while all you niggas flexing

I don't do the texting

If it's beef, I hope you catch a blessing, ayy