My whole life's consistent

Can't they tell we fuckin' different

Bro I'm chill, my diamonds hitting

You can't tell what bag I'm in

She won't go, I bag her friend

He ain't gang don't let him in

Number nine the letter man

Cause I ride with two

Matter of fact would kill my fucking self than fuck with you

I still beef with surge baby, I still love the blues

I feel like the king of this shit, I made the rules

Think my gang, handyman, the way we stay with tools

You don't really love me, baby, know I'm getting used

Since he wanted clout okay, put him on the news

I can tell you lying, baby, go ahead tell the truth

Keyboard warrior, he hard in the booth

Only that, never more

Big FN in my hand

Ask these niggas who want war

Fear of God on my body, boy I only fear the Lord

Since he said, that's up, on the ground, on the floor

Check my house, this gon' turn into a 40-hour tour