[Verse]

(Ooh, Sav, you killed it)

Salt kills snails, add flavor to players

Now after hating on a player, I hope you pray for me later

I guess you perfect, I'm tryna be like you

Put some P's in the luggage, hope they get right through

I'm overseas like it's down the street, effortless

No police watching shit I do

Taking pictures, hope they get my shoes

They expensive, not to mention they vintage

I'm on a thirty day stretch, two P's on a bench

Wrap that bitch twice, know they looking out for a scent

Rapping 'bout thе shit I lived I swear evеry by I meant

What I spent getting to this money, man, I forget

Spent a [?] on these Nikes though in New York at KIF

I hit a lick, dark shit on me, I'm on FaceTime with vic

I'm out in LA with an NY fitted feeling like Nip

I'm out in New York hitting home runs, I feel like a Met

Let the braids get fuzzy, getting to this money

They thought all that was behind me but we traffic it in

Moving ammo to the floor, bring the vacuum sealer in

Mix Roxanne with Patricia, I can't feel a thing

Music give me joy, dropping bags will help a nigga live

I know that this rap hot but I'ma run it to a million

I'ma run it to the ceiling