I was gone, but now I’m back

I’ma pull up, leave you flat

Got a Performante ‘Rarri

Spinning the block

Running these laps

I got some Rugers and some MACs

Bitch, I’m smoking on that gas

Your man got shot up in the snow

Now that bitch ain’t coming back

Left your girl out in the streets

Got some brothers catching bodies

Fucking thotties in the East

Pack a punch when it come to that beef—

Triple homicide, now he part of the deceased

Bullets to his head and he caught a brief

I’ma put all my opps in a blunt

And the mainland on a leash

Making this money turned me to an addict

Sliding on blocks, bought me a Patek

Brodie make a call for war and start snapping

Shooting thesе opps—

In my city, I be capping

Quarterback money likе the cover of Madden

Two bullets to his chest, and he drop like Aladdin

When it come to the fire, I’m just like a dragon

Fuck on her friend but I still got her clapping

Two-tone flash on my VVs start dancing

All my hitters coolin’ in a mansion

On an opp block looking to expand it

Moving these bricks turned into my passion

That boy too lippy—end up in a casket

My life is a movie, the cameras keep flashing

Your man a bitch, he ending up passing

Switching on hoes, my mode is passive

Fuck up the game, watching the cash flip

Dropping three bodies—call it a hat trick

Smoking on who?

Little bitch, that’s your last spliff

Light up the block

With a .40 and a mag clip

Demon in the cut

Cruising the city with a bad bitch

Cartier bracelet, living so lavish—

Big stepper, really ’bout that action

Step in my city, get put on a caption

Green light on your head and we laughing

Swiping the card, we ain’t checking no balance

Thought we was gang, so tell me what happened?

Glock .40 with a pole, I be whacking

Caught lacking—

Now that boy need a napkin

Big-body Mayne in the whip, I be packing

Promised my brothers to fuck up the game

I ain’t HC, but you can catch a fade

I was gone, but now I’m back

I’ma pull up, leave you flat

Got a Performante ‘Rarri

Spinning the block

Running these laps

I got some Rugers and some MACs

Bitch, I’m smoking on that gas

Your man got shot up in the snow

Now that bitch ain’t coming back

Left your girl out in the streets

Got some brothers catching bodies

Fucking thotties in the East

Pack a punch when it come to that beef—

Triple homicide, now he part of the deceased

Bullets to his head and he caught a brief

I’ma put all my opps in a blunt

And the mainland on a leash

Pussy-ass bitch, come here and get your get-back

Shot him in the dome—

Bitch can’t get his head back

Fucked her last night, now you can’t get your wife back

Talking that shit—now that bitch won’t type back

Life back calling my phone, how she like that?

Drip-stepper, big Draco, no Mich Jack

Don’t care if you losing—still fight back

Gone for two years, motherfucker, I came right back

Feeling like Ab the way that I snipe that

Your bitch a thot—

I wouldn’t wife that

Dumped a whole clip and we spinning right back

Opps in the air—

I know that you smell that

Reality check—

That boy need a life map

SRT, little VVs, and a night strap

LLC, little CCs—

That’s no cap

Hit in the chest, that boy can't get his height back

Talking that shit, getting you hit

Balling on the court—Sooch don’t miss

Rolling with a stick, hitting a lick

Pull up, you get shot with a blick

Came from the dirt

Family off the strip

SRT Trackhawk just got a lift

She got an ass, just bought some tits

I can’t beef with clowns, so don’t try to diss

I got knocks and a couple of spliffs

I got a drop with a couple of clips

Cashing out bands with a little bit of chips

Making them stack with a couple of scripts

Overseas money came right off the trip

Bro make a wave—might sink a ship

Foreign the whip, designer the drip

This year I’ma make sure you rest in piss

I was gone, but now I’m back

I’ma pull up, leave you flat

Got a Performante ‘Rarri

Spinning the block

Running these laps

I got some Rugers and some MACs

Bitch, I’m smoking on that gas

Your man got shot up in the snow

Now that bitch ain’t coming back

Left your girl out in the streets

Got some brothers catching bodies

Fucking thotties in the East

Pack a punch when it come to that beef—

Triple homicide, now he part of the deceased

Bullets to his head and he caught a brief

I’ma put all my opps in a blunt

And the mainland on a leash

Du-du-du-du-du

That’s how I step on bitches

Du-du-du-du-du

That’s how I step on bitches

Du-du-du-du-du

That’s how I step on bitches

Du-du-du-du-du

That’s how I step on bitches