[Intro]

(DT Beats)

[Verse 1: TrDee]

I'm OT, somewhere chilling on the beach

Fly a lil' baddie out, only if you be discreet

Don't let the glasses fool you, I am not a geek

I'm the type to still run it up if I ain't have no feet

Dick put her straight to sleep, this some NyQuil

Still reminiscing 'bout the wounds that did not heal

Damn, this bitch thicker than some oatmeal

Please tell me how you slid down and ain't get no kill

[Verse 2: BabyTron]

Hunnid rounder, leave a Scat Pack with no wheels

I don't gotta let that bitch off, I bet bro will

Shooting layups but you miss them bitches? You got no skill

Have my shooters run the triangle like I'm coach Phil

I'm too blowed

Three-five of the Whitе Runtz, this shit too strong

Bankroll seven-sevеn like Manute Bol

Push a button in the spaceship, now the coupe gone

[Verse 3: StanWill]

RIP Virgil, if I spin around, it's a X on me

In a bay, thirty in my clip, that's a Steph on me

Like it's payday, fuck around, drop a check on me

Pull up, drop fifty, I ain't even gotta stretch on me

Drop a couple shells, fuck around, get his taco blew

I don't like to wrestle, if it's up, put the Glock on you

Lil' bro ain't jamming 201s if he slide on you

You ain't doing shit for yo team, you don't lob no 'oops

[Verse 4: TrDee]

Tryna get a mill', I don't care about popularity

They tryna rap like us like a parrot

Did the dash, she like, "Hold on stop, boy, you scaring me"

Pull up with one or seven hoes, Linsanity

Heard you out here running 'round like a headless chicken

Bent her over then I slammed dunk like I'm Miles Bridges

Niggas tryna take a mile? We'll give him inches

The money counter keep jamming, give me some assistance

[Verse 5: BabyTron]

Scam this, jam that, I don't sell grams

You headed towards work, I'm just waiting on the mailman

Off a V cut, I need a Phantom, hot as hell, man

Get the payment then I block his ass, can you spell "ham"?

B22s, Dior kicks, this Dior drip

Hotter than a fuck, one me, I got four blicks

Got this shit up out the mud, wasn't born rich

Scam star, rap star, headed towards the Forbes list

[Verse 6: StanWill]

Push start the whip, hop in and I stab off

Pull up on her, Goose X Dior, she gon' grab balls

Been punching five plus, I been doing half offs

Swinging sticks at the opps like they throwing fast balls

Keep a sack, got the hoes tryna tackle me

Bitch put that crazy head on, she done baffled me

I was in school with more pape' than a faculty

In Miami I was hitting hoes with the plastic cheeks