Track Meet - Intellectual

[Intro]

Ayy, ayy, ayy!

Ayy, ayy, ayy, phew, ayy!

(Let's-a-go!), phew

Bitch, I be ballin' like an athlete

Make a nigga run like he in a track meet (Vroom!)

I'ma make sure the whole squad eat

Fifty bands stacked up in the backseat (In the backseat!)

Connect with your bitch like WiFi

And finesse her brick, now they callin' me the bad guy (Rrrr!)

Cook a nigga up like french fries

I don't take drugs, but I'm still high (Let's go!)

I-I'll kill a nigga with a fuckin' spoon

Fuck skippin' states, I'm goin' to the moon (I'm outta here!)

Goofy niggas usin' too much autotune

Take your mama out on a honeymoon (Haha!)

Spent thirty bands on my wrist, you spent thirty dollars on your bitch (Fuck-boy!)

And I can't fuck with a snitch (Nah!), 'cause these niggas hate 'cause I'm rich (Gang!)

Drinkin' lean out a sippy cup

Called the squad up, told them pick me up

Cut niggas off, and then ran it up

Your wrist look like Mississippi mud (Eugh!)

Like Playboi Carti, hide it in my sock

I'ma Milly Rock when I'm on the block (Ayy!)

Knock knock, who's there? I told that nigga I just wanna talk (Where he at?)

Once he open up that door, I push that pussy nigga to the floor (Gimme that!)

Then stole everything out the drawer (Gimme that!)

The police waitin' outside, they said, "Lil' Devo, say goodbye!" (Fuck that!)

I said, "Fuck 12, fuck your whole squad!"

And then shot that nigga in his thigh

(Ahehehe)

Traumatic new video released of a robbery in Houston

Smashing their way inside, rushing out with their arms full of high-powered weapon—