[Intro]

Ayy, all black

Whoa, yeah, uh

[Chorus]

I came wit this shit, boy, it's hard to tell, (Hard to tell? Uh)

Gucci rough print, wit the Louis belt, (Yeah)

I came wit this shit, boy, it's hard to tell, (Uh)

Gucci rough print, wit the Louis belt

[Verse]

Trust me, boy, I wouldn't trust me

Get up off the block, 'fore this shit get real ugly

All black forces, I swear nobody above me

Talkin' all that shit, butcho thottie really love me

I like robbin', I like shootin' people too

If you talk mad shit, choppa hitchu inna tooth

I-I-I-I be smokin' gas, lit the blunt inside the booth

Up inside this jawn, I got gas pack boof, uh

I just lit the blunt inside the vip, holup

You a bitch, you ain' wit the shit, holup

I pay fifty thou for this fit, holup

Gas pack, hittin' like a bitch, holup

When you hit my shit, jus know that it can hit back

Choppa gotta lotta motha-mothafuckin' kickback

Hoe hit my line, ain't get shit back

C-Choppa finna splitchu like a kit kat

[Chorus]

I came wit this shit, boy, it's hard to tell, (Hard to tell? Uh)

Gucci rough print, wit the Louis belt, (Yeah)

I came wit this shit, boy, it's hard to tell, (Uh)

Gucci rough print, wit the Louis belt