| If I ain’t a young shiner, then what do you call that?
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| Fuckin' niggas' hoes, he mad, textin' in all caps
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| Beef broad day, lay a nigga down, wave cap
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| Overkill drill, spin at the building the wake at
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| I’d be on what I’m on if I ain’t rap
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| And it really wasn’t no stressin' 'til them members came back
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| Niggas shook, family know we ain’t playin' no more
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| Real trapper, hit my dope like my hand was broke
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| He on Insta' with all the smoke, but call sayin' he don’t
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| You get pistol whipped for some petty shit, your head be swollen
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| Yeah, I’ll hit your mans up
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| Six hundred in hundreds, this shit there make 'em stand up
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| Run around actin' tough, but you not, boy
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| Where the cold bitches lookin' for the hot boys?
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| Fifty in the glizzy, I run my city
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| I ain’t stoppin' shit, catch me if you can
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| Just this month, sixty G’s off pants
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| I’m not, I’m not fuckin' no fan
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| Ridin' 'round with the top down
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| Sixty-five grams, ten of it is topside, stop lyin'
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| I done made a couple M’s a year without tryin'
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| Opps ain’t had a sixty-day stretch without dyin'
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| Y’all got all that gangster shit down except slidin'
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| You ain’t grind three days straight without hidin'
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| Gave Bands twenty-five, we ain’t takin' no time
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| Ayy, throw it off the glass, I’ma dunk it (Come here)
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| Since y’all niggas apes, I don’t mind killin' monkeys
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| Don’t step back
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| White buffs, no ice, these plain
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| Posted in the hood, all ten of my chains
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| Big 30 on me, off an eight of that drank
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| Bitch said she in love with who?
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| Ten on the ground, 'bout a dub in the roof
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| I’m a thug with a tool
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| Promoter called my phone when I left, couldn’t get the pipe in
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| Every nigga 'round me having motion like a tight end
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| Bought Hot Wheels for my nephew, but I picked him up in my twin
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| L with the coolant system, I bought it for a hotboy
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| Did a feature with a nigga, 21, I’m walkin' shit like Deion
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| His city say he a rat, so I had to send him back a refund
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| Say, Dot, that car right there look like it got the narcs in it
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| We the ones who ridin' 'round with more shots than the bartenders
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| I bet you we’ll get them niggas off your block
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| I bet you we don’t let them niggas get off no shots
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| Come through, show a nigga how to slide
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| Last night, I fucked a booster, woke up, text everybody size
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| Played plain janes, but now I’m goin' bustdowns
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| And Zelle the ho a rack to make sure that they touch down
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| She ain’t been ridin' with 'em when them bullets start flyin'
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| Carpet same color snow if his head brown
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| We ain’t got no protein in Louisville, this a brick town
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| A blicky in your glizzy with a switchy, you can’t miss town
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| Niggas really starved 'til we started bringin' that big round
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| Mix it with the rizzy, give that lil' dog a pit growl
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| Like I ain’t the one who started this shit
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| Like I don’t make sure them lawyers paid and them charges dismissed
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| I’m short, but I’ll lift a nigga ass up
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| Way before coronavirus, I had them youngins masked up (Mask up)
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| Tired of soda bottles, I pour a four inside my cup (Straight)
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| And you can’t post an Instagram model one of us can’t fuck (Haha)
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| I be at practice, I got real skills, none of this shit luck
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| Tell the owner tell security chill, 'cause none of us gettin' touched
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| When I find out where you niggas hide out, one y’all gettin' crushed
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| I’m like, «Fine, I might come out and vibe, but one of y’all gettin' fucked»
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| Got the finest car, one of a kind, I don’t slow down for much
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| I got twenty million cash now and still ain’t near enough
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| I’m goin' too crazy, I’m the Wayne of this new generation, niggas fugazi
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| They can’t fuck with us no type of way, these niggas too lazy
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| I’m cut from a different type of cloth, I don’t know who raised 'em
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| Every time I pop out, I hear women screamin', «Ooh, Baby» |