[Verse]

It's Rondawg wagwan, who are you I'll let it bom bom

Pussy so long pussy so long if I don't get 'em gone call my young dawgs

I let it bang its don’t get close, I scant I hang where they sell dope

In the south were its cold like the North Pole eagle eye but I stays with a 40

State of mind of a lion in a chock hold I’m on my grind on my grind never going broke

These niggas slipping like soap, streets talk but little did they know

I’m on metal like a stripper on her pole but my only wish is that I die old

Born alone die alone you could die with 'em it's fucked up

Men turn to women goons start snitching choppers start twitching

Bill Blair hired more police for divisions friends kill friends loyalty is missing

Men shooting kids no time for witness, money makes the world go round

But my money makes your girl down 3-8-3-5 to the trey pound

Fifteen for one cheapest in town barrel spinning like the merry-go-round

Get the Waka Flocka flame chop 'em down everything all hit lock on targets

For the paper guns drawn, artist don’t get close is hardest

Bring any YG bring any artist you are not beside me believe you're a target

I’m behind ninety gun game flawless slide through get burnt like a carpet

I was on the block getting used to the gun kit you was on the block getting punch in your socket

I duck low and get back up like I’m boxing knock a man out I ain't talking unconscious

I’m in the house where it's dark and its haunted, smoking spiffs and blunts on mountains

Tall up from China I call it Yao Ming I got the money that you need help counting

I'ma need me an accountant