[Intro: R3 Da Chilliman]

(MIA JAY C)

Only problem is I keep poppin' these Percocets

(I hear you, JAY C)

Oh-oh

[Verse 1: R3 Da Chilliman]

My only problem is I keep poppin' these Percocets

Took his chains 'cause he play tough, now come purchase it back

Jeans only cost me a band, but I got fifty in 'em

Hit they hood and spinned all night, I got dizzy with 'em

Nigga, the gat ain't in the car, I'm in the club with it

Lil' Yak can beat your block, I love that dumb nigga

Pink 10s, RPs, where my meds at?

Walk in, swingin' big Cubans, the head taps

She suck it good, she got me leanin' like my cream soda

I see her friends been eyein' me, I told hеr bring 'em over

You know I sprayed thе YSL, so smell the cookie on me

Bad bitch with a fat ass, put that pussy on me

Fuckin' yerkies got my motherfuckin' palms itchin'

I need all my kicks designer, I cannot fit them

In the booth, beatin' the mic like I'm Sonny Liston

In the house, searchin' for money, now they safe missin'

In the club, swingin' my chain like a hula hoop

Everybody turned opps, I don't know who to shoot

Told the bitch to slow down, I almost spilled my juice

If the ball was in your hand, what would you do?

[Verse 2: 03 Greedo]

I'm finna do a song with somebody that I don't like

This nigga think we cool, but he won't make it home tonight

They call me Greedy, when I eat shit, got an overbite

Red bottom steppin' on the lean, can't roll, your soda spiked

Need purple guts inside my Ghost, call it the poltergeist

I been possessed by Lil Money, finna pour tonight

Just fucked the partner of my ex like she don't know my wife

I'm bangin' Grape Street Crip, bitch, you know I'm trife

Bitch, I'm still high off shit I popped back in 2009

I'm still alive, and all my opps? Shit, all them niggas dyin'

Don't ask me 'bout no Cali rappers, all them niggas lyin'

They ain't no flockers, ain't no trappers, ain't comittin' crimes

Each time 03 link with R3, these niggas throwin' signs

They finna free motherfucker Flee and bitch, it's goin' down

2013 to '23 and we ain't been around

But I'ma give it to you straight, you play, we give you rounds

Ain't talkin' boxin', turn to hashtags off of fifty pound

Hottest new artist, but for fifteen years, been underground

They speed my songs up and do dances with them kiddy clowns

Might paint my face, hop out with steppers in the biggest crowd

We ride with spinners, we ride with spinners, it don't stop

Steppin' like Crunchy Black, the mafia back on the block

I got some Memphis Grapes that pop a younger nigga top

You play with Greedy name and we ain't never met, I'm just at odds

I gained some weight in prison, this ain't fat, I'll knock you out

Enemies respect me 'cause I never flinched, they packed me out

Bitch, I'm bangin' Peter Roll, on Grape, I never rolled it up

Some of y'all done turnt it down and y'all ain't standin' close to us

Murder R3 songs 'cause he remind me of my evil twin

Know they call me Greedy, after this, gon' have to eat again

I hustle off my tax ID and I might use a CPN

I know this verse a lil' long, so what? Just loop the beat again

Still standin' on business, I stand up like a comedian

I'm back to get my motherfuckin' state up out they seat again

Been down for seven burners, I ain't scared to up the heat again

Push my parole to Cali just so I can smoke some weed again

I must have a weak bladder 'cause a nigga finna pee again

Don't ever say these rappers soundin' somethin' like 03 again

She don't wanna give me shit, I'm sorry, I don't need her then

If you ain't down to kill a nigga for me, I can't be your friend

Big Cheeto, hah

[Verse 3: R3 Da Chilliman]

Ain't no foolin' me, he jewelry cheap, that Cuban hollow

Thought he was a killer, real driller, he got robbed, though

Niggas in they videos with ARPs and they ain't drop shit

I go grab my chopper, drop a body, I don't drop diss

I'm in Neiman Marcus, pockets bulgin', we want big racks

Aim the 7.62s at his face and push his shit back

My homies outside totin' sticks like they can't see nothin'

Bitch, time to slide, if you in this ride, you know how we comin'

You ain't never stripped a nigga for a box of P's

Don't crack stoves and flock houses, nigga, that's my thing

My watch cost a lil' more, I bust a face too

You niggas bouncin' out, lettin' Dracs loose

The blower in my Amiri jeans and I'm clutchin' it

She got a design on her toes and I'm lovin' it

I'm in here leanin' to the left, I'm off a pink ten

Hundreds piled up on the floor, I'm countin' Big Ben