[Verse 1: SK Laflare]

Uh, First off fuck you and your bitch

Your gang and your clique

I'm not that bitch that you wiz

Huh, You don't make sense

Take two to the ribs

Too late, make you wish you kept it safe for your kids

I don't pretend, Pass the clip

Strapped to win, If he flinch

Snatch his wig

Watch this bitch get chipped like cheap paint

Can't stop now

Checkin eyes get your block tore down

At the rise we runnin' it from so Cal

Got that work out, swole now

More pounds, move sour

Loud toys, cowboys

Shootin all these hoes down

They give us news, give us blues

Fuck that, give me loot

I'm killin her, killin him, after that, killin you

Politicians and they business suits

They the real criminals

They give us artificial, and keep the natural minerals

'012 tuck a pistol cause ain't nobody missin' you

I said it's '012 tuck a pistol, cause ain't nobody missin' you

[Hook]

Laflare, You know he bout it bout it

Bitch, Mike Uzi, Know he bout it bout it

Yeah, Vince Staples, Know he bout it bout it

And that nigga Speak? You know he bout it bout it

Yeah, Wolf Gang, You know they bout it bout it

And all my niggas That bang, they bout it bout it

All my crip niggas? They bout it bout it

Bangin neighborhoods, They bout it bout it

And all my blood niggas? They bout it bout it

To my cousins tryna make it out the county

Bitch I'm bout it bout it

We bout it bout it!

Yeah... we bout it bout it