Ya x5

(Chorus)

Drop the top *oooooos*

They go insane

Disappear

On David Blaine *skrt skrt*

4 door coupe

Ain’t no range

Wit the mob

You in the gang

(Chorus repeats)

(Traum’s Verse)

Mob ties, mob ties like no lies

Down bad we was real broke

They was fake lit trynna hate this shit

Ok like,k like

Slowed up

Poured the 4

Now I’m tore up

Off da cets

I might throw up

Suicide need them doors up

Call the coroner

Wit a foreign bitch

She from Florida

Don’t speak my language

On the same shit

Dumb bitch

631 how I run shit

Island boy wit the hang time

Let the braids shine

Know it’s gametime

When I pop out

Bring the mops

How I drip shit

Food and Liq

How kick shit

Anemic froze

Imma sick bitch

Cause this real cold

This real cold

Like ICE ICE

You can’t see him

Thru the late night

Diamonds blindin

In the headlights

(AHHHHHHHHH)

(Chorus)

(Foggy’s Verse)

Swear to God

Ain’t no fakin

Alexander my Wang chain

Them island niggas wildin

Gon set the Notre Dame flames

Pill poppin percs until I’m conscious

Gon need another brain

Ain’t nothing you do can phase me

Hoes is always gon chase me

*Oooos*

Country singer we rockin out like some

Rockstars

Hoe I’m in a Coupe

That just don’t wanna keep the top on

Feelin like a pop star

Sippin all this Wockhart

Gang gon bring the heat then oof like a poptart

*Oooos*

I keep wildin wit the crew

I got snakes all on my shoes

Make the play in jimmy trues

I keep wildin in the booth

She keep bobbin for the crew

(Chrous)

(Sample)

30 seconds and counting

Astronauts reporting feels good T minus 5 seconds

2 seconds and counting

Guidance is internal