[Intro]

It's crazy I gotta tell niggas this shit like they forgot

[Verse 1]

Look where I made it to, with the same niggas I started with

Double-S-O just a quote but they know we a gang and they want be a part of it

Another city in another state

Another pay on another stage

Swear that these raps like a book 'bout my life that I'm writing and each song another page

I guess my mixtape like a novel huh

Chose to lead and a few chose to follow up

On stage with my squad, fuck an entourage

We don't need no security follow us

And we smoke heavy dope, put them bottles up

Came in here with some bitches, no models but

They the baddest and fuck with the realest youngin

Won't see me on a song if I feel they bluffin'

His name buzz on the street, I ain't heard it youngin

Not a lick, not a move, I ain't heard of nothing

Niggas taking these ranks but ain't showing nothing

Youngin's lost, they ain't learn about earning nothing

Out in the streets it's two type of niggas

Ones who show love when they see potential

Take you to the stu, toss you instrumentals

Put that word in your ear like, "son you an issue"

Then it's niggas who see your potential

Would only reach out when that shit been official

But them type of niggas same niggas who diss you

Or sorry ass suckers, don't feel sentimental

Just kill 'em myself, play they part with my own smarts

Fuck them niggas, this my own art

Give a fuck where they from, got my own start

Give a fuck who you with, got my own heart

[Hook]

And I don't know what they told y'all

Got a 40 stuffed in my coat dog

If you walk down, don't approach wrong

If you look wrong I might blow dog, so look

I done came up on a lot of money

I done ran down on a lot of dummies

They want take my shit but ain't got it from me

They hatin' for what, man you gotta love me

[Verse 2]

Woah, look, I used to flex, but now my arms hurt

Look, your bitch stop sucking, I guess her jaws hurt

Look, a nigga keep hatin', I guess his pockets hurt

Hating don't make you no paper, so why be a hater?

Don't know how his wallet work

Fuck the talk, show the profit first

Fuck a friend, where that cash at?

Fuck a job, where my mask at?

Fuck a tweet and a hashtag

We just whoop your ass and look past that

120, I dash that

If it costs racks, I'ma cash that

Your bitch on my dick, I'ma smash that

And these verses, I'ma crush that

Boy I shoot fast, I don't bust back

Mama said get a job and give up rap

But my fans and myself, we like fuck that

In the field tryna score, fuck a touchback

Get a gun, if you don't better rush back

My bitch told me I'm smoking too much pack

But my thoughts be too loud, gotta hush that

Bitches think I ain't shit and they all wrong

I ain't saying I'm sweet, this the wrong song

Hit that pussy, I stay if it's choice

If she tryna force some relations I'm long gone

Cause I'm in the streets from sun to night

I'm just tryna eat, get my money right

I ain't changing my ways for not none of y'all

Not unless that shit gon' change my mama's life

[Outro]

Cause my mama deserve it

I swear my mama deserve it

I'm back in the booth

Now these niggas look nervous