[Intro]

Whew, whew (Ghostee)

Whew, yeah

Unc' mixing— (Yeah)

Unc' mixing— (Yeah)

[Verse]

Unc' mixing Tris with the Remy

Triple S, boy, the kicks cost a stimmy

Disney World, boy, this stick got the Mickey

Model shit, all my bitches be pretty

Feel like the chosen one, my bitch is picky

Don't knuckle up, boy, this shit'll get risky

Christian Dior got your bitch getting frisky

Piru the sneaks, but my jeans full of Nipsey's

We the shit, all you niggas be peons

Bro got Wock' in his cup, not no Tito's

Bank account full of commas and zeros

Don't suck dick, I'ma tell this bitch, "Be gone"

He could do Cardi's, I feel like the Migos

Think we gon' fight? Boy, you better bе Ne-Yo

All these nеw jacks, bitch, I feel like I'm Nino

Slide with the metal, my blicky OP, bro

They tryna cuff, ain't no bitches arresting me

Only streets you ever been in was Sesame

Show her my back account, bet she had sex with me

All the sauce I got, I could make a recipe

Pull up in kitties, Dior where the pedal be

Say we ain't shitting? Must be off amphetamines

If it ain't pape', conversation be dead to me

Must be the horse, man, he think he ahead of me

Bitches think I hit the lotto

Gang and them smoking Gelato

I got your bitches hitting high notes

Been chasing pape' since a snot nose

ShittyBoyz, Dog Shit Militia the motto

Amiri the jeans, but the tee by Milano

I bet I make your bitch go soft like Mulatto

It's a drum on the stick, bitch, I pop out with bongos

Coffee tint, bitch, I'm peaking through Carti's

Boy, your bitch got my meat like she Arby

Dripping sauce, boy, I'm flyer than Marty

Don't do basic, boy, all my hoes Barbie's

Chrome did the hoodie, I see why she heart me

I don't know if she want me or TrDee

Pop out with AR's, we look like the Army

Virgil the hoodie, I don't fuck with Bari

Dog Shit Militia, your gang don't compare to us

Five hunnid on the T-shirt just to wear it once

Need some more boxers, the chop got a pair of nuts

Came from the dirt, boy, this shit wasn't fair for us

Don't do no singles, I need me a pair of sluts

We'll shoot you in your shit, boy, don't stare at us (Ayy, ayy, ayy)

When I hit the strip, bitches bring out they ponchos

Step like I'm Shaq, Triple S's on my toes

If we drop shells, we ain't making no tacos

Bet the Glock stronger, he thinking he macho

.308 leave his face with a pothole

Can't leave the crib 'less the Glock on

Thinking it's bae, get your top blown

Just 'cause I rock Off-White, don't think that I'm not on

[Outro]

Whew, yeah, yeah

Yeah, yeah, yeah, bitch