[Intro]

Alright, yeah

[Verse]

Make sure you say I’m rich when you send me in yo group chat

Looking at the stars while I drive, where my roof at?

Feel like Nino, heading to my city with some new jacks

Throw the buffys on while she suck it, with my cool-ass

We do not beef, you just mad that yo bitch blew me

Holding on to high school clout? You a big goofy

Telling bae my heart loyal but she know my dick choosing

Me and gang tripping up at [?] we punch six movies

I was counted out, got ‘em tryna add me up now

Funny me and gang stayed down but we up now

I’ll knock the head off yo neck, tryna touch mine

Yo bitch want a rapper, she gon’ do it for the one time

Bitch freak me out, all she wanna do is suck my balls

Telling model hoes, “It ain’t no fun unless you fuck my dawg”

Rich-ass dick, bitch, I spent two hunnid bucks on drawers

Was down on the score, now we a hunnid up on y’all

All these racks, I could fuck around, win the Wimbledon

Said the ShittyBoyz ain’t shitting? You a simpleton

Everybody on my team scoring when I dish to them

Only get one shot in life so I’m swishing it

I done blew the

[?]

on my Jeep, now I’m switching whips

I’ll light a opp house up, on some Christmas shit

I’m a sinner but my Diors on some Christian shit

B22s tied up but I’m tripping, bitch

I don’t do no dick sucking, I don’t do no clique jumping

Brodie running ‘round mean-mugging, tryna blick something

Made ten at ten-something, paint step like Tim Duncan

Riding ‘round with tools on me, I ain’t tryna fix nothing

Sack on the floor? I’m jumping in like a sleeping bag

Got the Glock tucked but Ju Sleaze, he’ll sleep his ass

Main bitch tryna beat me up, with my cheating-ass

SR to the damn T when we screeching pass

You could march around with a drum, still won’t see a band

Ever since a boy I always knew that I’ll be the man

I’ll up stick and stick him up, let me see them hands

Flying around the D with green on me like I’m Peter Pan

Small Drac’, pretty bi— huh, yeah, okay

Like, yeah, huh

Small Drac’, pretty bitch, and a big K

Next year it’s drop top Porsche when I switch lanes

Bitches looking at the group like, “Who the fuck up the most?”

I been so deep in my bag that the duffel broke

Love when it’s chicken in my fingers, bitch, I’m Uncle Joe

They ain’t put no pape’ in my pockets so it’s fuck these hoes

I can peep the fake love through my buffalos

I can talk sticks, no cap, got a bunch of those

Mike Amiri pockets stuffed with blue strip onion rolls

On a giffy tour with gang-gang if I hug the road

Six hunnid just to mean-mug through a Fendi tee

Bitch copy everything I do, she my mini me

Ain’t one in you but I swear it’s a M in me

Everything I wear wet as fuck, you can’t swim with me

SBD$M, T-double H-L

Gang affiliation, got ‘em thinking that I can’t spell

Brodie ringing down the opp block with that Drake Bell

Had to tell her, “I don’t chase hoes, bitch, I chase mail”

[Outro]

Ha-ha, no cap though

Dumbass nigga

Yeah, huh, ShittyBoyz