[Verse 1: 279tyler]

Pull up, I get him gone

Sippin' 2 cups, styrofoam

Model bitch, hittin' up my phone

Bro really pull up and take his soul

Bro really shootin' like free throws

Disrespect me, get that boy gone

Talking to me, better watch your tone

I'm on the perc, think I just flown

They wanna be us, they just clones

Had to make the money all my by lone

Cheese in my pocket, uh, provolone

I do not wear no Vlone

Put him in the sky, like he a drone

Where that boy go, that's unknown

Hey, I'm up in my zone

Still got junkies hittin' my phone

All the shit I've done, I can't atone

Bought a new Glock, yeah, it's two toned

Your bitch got my song, as her ringtone

One DM turn her to my hoe

I don't want her you can keep her though

I'm too focused on this dough

He dumb he got finessed with fake dough

He dumb on IG toting fake ass poles

That fake ass pint gonna kill you bro

I can't die till I've reached my goals

I think I got like too many hoes

But I'm still looking for some more

Four we don't pour that no more

Pour the whole then I'm taking off

[Verse 2: tayparadox]

Alright, let's go

Thought you could flex on me

This ain't no gang, this DWC

You want the smoke, A.C.O.G

What do you think? That I'm a D.O.G.?

I'm bout to send him to G.O.D

Pull up with choppas, that two twenty three Slayworld Soldier

Show up to his crib, like it's delivery

You off of the crack, think you better than me

Just tell the hoe, that you remembering me

Two double cups, pour it separately

Y'all niggas is funny like Letterman be

If you making bands of the crackpot

Run in his trap spot, then we take the racks from lil bruh

Digital bro need a trap spot, just need a stash spot

I make them bands off a cell phone

If it ain't bout the racks I'm gone

Run up in a god damn home

(?)

I'm flyer than a god damn drone

(?)

Step up off my throne

Leave him in the street like cones

(?)

I'm flyer than a bitch, you know how that go

I'm flyer than a bitch, designer on my clothes

What you gonna do when we slide on your block, with them poles

Feel like 2 Chainz cause I'm different when I meet these hoes

[Verse 3: Jayrachi]

Woah, I don't need these hoes, I be on my own

Count racks while I roll, yeah

She wanna suck my dick, don't bite it

This a freestyle I don't do no writing

Come and link up I don't do no typing

I mix Amiri with the Helmut Lang

You in the air try to snatch my chain

Mixin these pills I'm a go insane

All of these bills that's all on my brain

Me and my gang, ride with a K

Get out the way, we finna spray

You just a lame, I'm in first place

Don't you talk to me that way

I been on my own just, coolin', vibin'

These hoes want my dick, I'm not providing

You need guidance (you need guidance)

Couple bands, couple bands, couple bands

That's what I walk in with now

It ain't gonna be no trouble man, I'm just finna air this bitch out

Every time a nigga wanna diss, I pull up and he always wanna bitch out

Acting like I need to bring the stick out

Nigga I will beat you with my fist out, yeah