[Intro]

Huh?

On god

Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah

[Verse: Rx Papi, Rsc Chapo]

It ain't no backdoor on the house, nigga, what the fuck you doin'?

I'm paranoid, you better tell your boy "Chill" 'fore I get to shooting

Situations turn bad 'cause niggas don't know how to play it

Brodie damn near blew the whole slab, he ain't know how to [?] it

Fuck [?], I seen my opp broad-day and I'ma face him

Yeah, this rap shit kinda cool

I act like I ain't got nun' to lose

We spin they block when there's nothin' to do

I spent a rap deal on my jewelry

Technically I'm not signed, but on your head I put five

Jump out the bushes with the fire (Fah, fah, fah, fah)

This nigga think he got nine lives

Auntie dance like Mary J. Blige

Bitch, I got dope on the plate

I put the pole to your face

Cuz'nem woulda came home, but you told on the case

I reloaded my Drac', now I couldn't throw it away

They say I got a chance with rap and I shouldn't throw it away

I stand on business with my niggas, don't care what a nigga say

It be a cold day in hell before I let 'em get away

It's niggas that I still wanna kill back from seventh grade

Lil' Yano get you gone, all he need is a picture and your name

They like "Papi talkin' crazy, it's probably 'cause the nigga's crazy"

That boy cut throat and he a taker

Police behind us, gotta shake 'em

All I know is work the dope

I got fifty dollar grams

Scratch from the side of the bowl and serve hit to my mans

I got the Drac', don't give a damn

"Where you at?" Still sellin' grams

Take this picture, I'm your fan

Coke, lean and we selling tan

My white junkie like "Chapo, I love you"

Damn right, bitch, I just wanna fuck you

Make it rain with the Carbon

They like "Chapo, what you chargin'?"

A hundred a gram, two thousand a feat

Her head ain't good but the pussy elite

These Louis Forces, don't step on my feet

Nigga, nah, for real

I can't go out of town, I got money on the streets

Ridin' 'round with your bitch, we just had her on her knees

She like "Chapo, you a demon"

See a opp, watch, we get to squeezin'

I can't trust him 'less he Crip

You buy this bag, that's what you get

Wrist dancin', milly rockin'

He big as hell, but the Drac' stopped him

I'm down the way, I'm Glock shoppin'

It's more cut, I still lock it

I fuck her good off the Roxi'

I wish you would, we gon' pop you

Three cubans, I'm super cocky

Mob boss like I'm John Gotti