[Verse 1: GoldLink]

Get on my level ho, get on my level bitch

36 and Minnesota, you know who you fuckin’ with

Baby girl got the pistol hangin’ straight out a Prada bag

We don’t care who you or where you’re from

We still run up on you like, Wassup!

Wassup, wassup, wassup with them cookies

I’m a triple OG sell propane, we street bang you a rookie

I’m a mother fucking problem, what the problem be?

I’m just probably just spit this verse and make sure you just coming after me

We so damn cray, rapapapa bababa ya

Shake that ass on dick and make me cum

I don’t fuck with no nigga, up top I learn it from

I will run in the streets all day and all night

If you don’t believe that shit, I'll tell you shit you've never seen

DC Maryland that’s the scene, ???

Peanut boogie boobie ricco pretty boy ..?

Tell me if you see my niggas round my way for make believe

Yeah

[Verse 2: GoldLink]

Dirty pop, take a dirty Glock and pop you off the block

Pull that trigger look away and cry about it nada

Pile it up under my bed and stuff some in my sock

Never you knew you shock to synthesize just want your Pradas

4th route of the cities DC, Maryland, PG, and VA

Slangin’ dope, now audio dope but we pushin’ dope (cocaina!)

Fuck women, weed, and weather got the bitches

Hoosie heather still addicted to that waister that we rap about

Take a dirty Glock and pop you off the block

Pull the trigger look away and cry about it later

Pile it all up in my closets, stuff some in my sock

Never lose your shock to senses for Balenciaga, Gucci, Louis

Belts and Cartier we ran at buddies house

I saw some panties on the floor and thought of buddy's spouse

Yeah my nigga got no pussy what I’m ‘bout to do

I mean her room right there, so should I knock or just intrude?

What it do?

[Bridge] x2

Squaaash club nigga we the mother fucking truth

Bitch niggas copping b’s asking for a truce

Throw a middle finger up and tell them niggas suck it

Nigga I don’t tweet, I get to fighting then I bust ‘em