[Intro: K. Gotti, Two Chains, and Producer Tag]

Yo! This Two Chains! Checkin' in with Scrim the DJ. Now pull up

K. Gotti!

This a Scrim beat!

No hooks!

Shoutout to Carolina

G*59

DJ Scrim!

Say Scrim? Drop that shit!

DJ Scrim with that 808!

[Verse: K. Gotti]

My trap beat like a heart rate

Bitch niggas flee like a relay

I got strikes like an inmate

You niggas nervous like a blind date

On the bottom like a skid-plate

We on top like the head of state

Hard to break like an armor-plate

My flow golden like heaven gates

Satellite high like Kevin Gates

Tryna slide by like Ground bate

You boys trashed like a [?]

Bettеr stay inside like a rainy day

That nine tuckеd like shirt tails

My name ring like church bells

She so sweet like caramel

With a deep pussy like a water-well

I'm stuck to it like hair-gel

'Cause she locked up like jail cells

Loud screams like raising hell

And when I stop bro she like "don't tell"

I looked at her like "too late"

Then rolled out like speed skates

Bringing pain like tooth aches

Pullin' on triggers like a knee break

Eatin' rappers like a piece of cake

I'm a drug addict like Scarface

Hard to handle like pepper spray

I see black and gray like an X-ray

Spending money like a ballet

She threw the pussy like a pass-play

We tossed the bitch like a bouquet

And went back and fourth like a keep-away

Stay fly like blue jays

I beat the charge like O.J

Dangerous like a spinal tap

Y'all aggravating like jock straps

Overrated like snapbacks

That pussy wet like a dish-rag

I stick in it like a thumb tack

She say I'm good like Cheese-Mac

Cranked up like car-jacks

This beat cold like ice-packs

Soften niggas like tin-cans

She catch the nut like a drip-band

51-50 like a stunt-man

T-shirt your fam like a hitman

On your ass like a traffic jam

We schemed out like Uncle Sam

Scrim made it like a [?]

Hollywood lookin' like a million dollars

Oddy nasty like clam chowder

Leaving bitches stuck like rush-hour

Outdated like ten cassettes

We rush niggas like roulette

Burnin' niggas like a cigarettes

Your bitch blew me like a clarinet

Unpredictable like Chopper City

With a mean look like "Who fuckin' with me?"

I love drama like WorldStar

Lightin' niggas up like police cars

On-track like NASCAR

I can read your hands like tarot cards

Got keys like prison guards

I wreck the track like boxing gloves