[Verse 1]

Yeah, that bitch got attitude

Dumb lil bitch fuck up my mood

Tryna play my game you lose

Try-ta-play-the-game-you-lose

Drank lean, booze

Drank lean, uh, drank the lean

Copped the coupe copped the grills in my tooth

Hopped out the jet and that bih' just give me top

I'm tryna touch the top

Don't talk to no cop

I can't talk to no fed we might leave you spread

You keep talkin on the net but where your bread?

I took out the Glock (Frr, frr, frr, frr)

We might spin your block

We might spin your block, the feds dead but you not

And I'm greedy with the racks why would I just split the pot?

And you think you fuckin' with me lil boy (Huh)

But you not thinking bout my life thinking bout my life

I'm up everyday don't know if this right

And this shit get hard everyday but I know I'm gone be aight

Bitch I'm gone bitch I'm gone just like a kite

I get geeked asf bitch I'm high like kite

No I do not come from earth

I can't even tell my birth

I don't talk I don't converse

You can't even cop a verse

I talk racks and you talk dirt

I just fell inlove with percs

This chaney-ney vintage purse

Alexander get it first

New bitch and she come from turks

[Brudge]

Me and my percs

Me and my percs

Me and my percs

[Verse 2]

I know what it means to curse

Niggas they waiting on me to burst

Putting it on, you know I must

I got some slithers that bit the dust

Me and my slime really discuss

No, I cannot give you no verse

Taxin' a fee, no I'm not cheap

All of these nigga be holding on me

They all clutching on me

I make the sound behind the teeth

I keep it low below the knees

Man, I'm so cold, switch up the season

They still don't know the reason

I just told Los, I don't know either

Go to the church, dap up the preacher

They asking me like I'm a teacher

I do not hand out features

I'm taxin' a fee, my nigga

Just hit up Molley Margiela

I told him, let's stack up the feathers

These young nigga tryna be like me

Yeah, cause my swag spread like a virus

Pink 50, I got a tiger

Doing a spread up to my shoulder

Came from the curb, my slither

I do, no Bryson Tiller

I got a slime, killer

I don't know but they say I'm ill-er

They turn it up to a triller

I told 'em, I'm switching the weather

Tell 'em bring out the umbrella

I'm dripping like "Ella, ella"