[Intro]

No white flags, don't call my phone

None of that bullshit, I don't wanna hear no apologies, nigga

Shootin' up all y'all spots, nigga

Your trap, your studios, nigga, your shows (Gang)

[Verse 1]

Don't call my phone with the drama, you know I took it

Real veteran, I could tell you a rookie

Had to soup up the whip, 12 tryna book me

Never took my chain, I'm far from pussy

In Atlanta bangin' just like I'm Tookie

5-9 Brim Gang, the set that I'm pushin'

Serving junkies out the park while 12 lookin'

Shoot at your Toyota, I am not hookin'

I set up shop anywhere, you cannot move me

Fuckin' on hoes that used to overlook me

Vacuum seal the pack but I can not mute it

In all black, man, my gang like G-Unit

Talk about money, I speak that shit fluent

FN Magazine holdin' 'em flue tips

Totin' on a stick the size of a broom stick

Better get yo' bitch, she fuckin' the movement

I already know these niggas assumin'

How you trapping but your ass ain't improvin'?

Thirteen when I first had that toolie

If it's on-site, you know that I'm shootin'

Young nigga in the fuckin' streets

I was doing this while you was hoopin'

Been up on gang, you could not fool me

Took 'em off of the set, he a goofy

Big dogs in the hood try'na use me

Now I'm up on 'em, you can't recruit me

Shoot up your set like a movie

Out the window, doubled down with two Uzis

Catch him lackin', walk him down like he oozin'

Niggas in the hood swear that they knew me

Hire a hitman, pull up in a Dually

Fuckin' on a bitch that look like Karrueche

[Outro]

Tu sabes que xopa nigga

Calle siete

Ahora mismo, nigga

Todo lo haria

Yo tengo mi pistola, nigga