[Chorus]

I been trappin out these verses like it’s going outta style

Keep a Pom Pom full of killa like it’s going outta style

This hoe say she wanna suck me like it’s going outta style

Living life I can’t get comfy like it’s going outta style

[Refrain]

So don’t play with me

You know that I stay pippy

Long stock pimpin

When I spit, make that hoe break fifty

I just get the bag and chuck the duce up like a late hippy

Blowing F1, I’m off the gas

Bitch you can’t race with me

[Verse]

Yea I grow my own quads (killa)

Even when I pray to God I’m still my own god (killa)

Rise up early with the sun cause I’m my own star (killa)

All this charisma keep her wetter than a coast guard

So if that ass fat, bet I stamp that likе a postcard (killa)

Yea I was woppin across the country with the coast gods (coast gods)

I usеd to ride that number 1 just like a ghost car (ghost car)

Yea big Herglotti riding shotgun, that’s my co-star

We flood the town, had custies sinking like a boat

Oowee, yea this that killa you could O.D. off a toke

Two gs, man if I out this blunt you’ll find that in my roach

Two ps, stuffed in that carry-on, we smoking out the coach

Big P, come through your stereo then let them speaker blow

[Chorus]

I been trappin out these verses like it’s going outta style

Keep a Pom Pom full of killa like it’s going outta style

This hoe say she wanna suck me like it’s going outta style

Living life I can’t get comfy like it’s going outta style

[Refrain]

So don’t play with me

You know that I stay pippy

Long stock pimpin

When I spit, make that hoe break fifty

I just get the bag and chuck the duce up like a late hippy

Blowing F1, I’m off the gas

Bitch you can’t race with me

[Verse]

Ah aw nah, man y'all can't race with me

I just touch gas n pew (pew), David blizzy

Do what the fuck I wanna do, y'all can't lamp wit me

Stay on my hater's necks, like a rank hickey

She said oh dickery dock, she want me to dick her down

Said I want that tippity top, she say she going down

Make time sloppity slop whenever I finish making rounds

Word to Biggie, yeah if the head right I'll be there er’y night

Er'y night, every night, if the head right I'll be there, ery night

Less I say go, that hoe gon keep that pussy airtight

Naw I don't play with it, chop my spinach and feed her bare pipe

[Chorus]

I been trappin out these verses like it’s going outta style

Keep a Pom Pom full of killa like it’s going outta style

This hoe say she wanna suck me like it’s going outta style

Living life I can’t get comfy like it’s going outta style

[Refrain]

So don’t play with me

You know that I stay pippy

Long stock pimpin

When I spit, make that hoe break fifty

I just get the bag and chuck the duce up like a late hippy

Blowing F1, I’m off the gas

Bitch you can’t race with me