| Woah
|
| My fault, white chalk on the sidewalk and it’s my fault (And it’s my)
|
| Yeah, on the side, on the side walk
|
| I had to laugh to keep me from crying (Wop)
|
| Ha-ha
|
| Looking like a four-eyed nerd with these Cartier frames (Nerd)
|
| Fuck a bowtie, I’m rocking diamond chains (Burr)
|
| Titties perking, ass poking out
|
| Got my dick so hard, see the vein coming out (Damn)
|
| Probably won’t get no star on the sidewalk (Huh?)
|
| White chalk on the sidewalk and it’s my fault
|
| Gucci keep going up, posting all his whereabouts
|
| In these foreign lands shaking hands he don’t care about
|
| I don’t give a damn 'bout nothing but the pay amount
|
| I ain’t never going broke, all I really care about
|
| Money coming in and out, trapping like it’s In-N-Out
|
| Money every minute, nigga, I look like a millionaire
|
| Big player, sitting at the end of the boss chair
|
| Sewing loose ends, get you caught up in the crossfire
|
| Looking back, I was in the pen behind barbed wire
|
| And I ain’t tried to blend, I’m a stand up tall guy
|
| Testing, testing, Gucci flexing, let me see if this mic working (Mic)
|
| Always make a good impression, live at the Grammy’s, let me tuck my shirt in
|
| Snuck the work in the Birk' like a vet do
|
| You can’t gas me, bitch, 'cause I’m selling jet fuel
|
| Real life freaky girl live in the bedroom (Freaky)
|
| Snuck off and hit my bitch in the red room (Shh)
|
| I remember you from school, nigga, you a ho guy
|
| I don’t think nobody got the balls that I got (No)
|
| Shotgun hunter, had his whole clique hog tied
|
| Gucci Mane shotter, I’ma start a bonfire
|
| Strapped with the FN, I don’t need a fall guy
|
| Standing in the kitchen flipping chickens just like Five Guys
|
| .223'll shitbag, blow out your whole teste
|
| I just made a new investment, ice Wayne Gretzky
|
| Testing, testing, Longway flexing
|
| I just make the GT go skrrt like the Jetson’s
|
| S&L top floor, fucking two besties (Bitch)
|
| Took a hundred pound and went and baguettied the necklace (Ice)
|
| Paramount diamonds, just exquisite suggestion
|
| Remy bust down, you can tell by the setting
|
| It’s a high limit room, I see you bettin' by the petty
|
| Go out like a hot boy, Long gon' pop it when we ready
|
| I get your bitch and trap her, make her suck it like spaghetti
|
| The brick came with the st&on it, we cook it 'til it’s ready
|
| I’m hittin' her from the back, she say I’m fuckin' up her edges
|
| Live at the Grammy’s, Longway sippin' on Texas (Longway, bitch)
|
| Testing, testing, Gucci flexing, let me see if this mic working (Mic)
|
| Always make a good impression, live at the Grammy’s, let me tuck my shirt in
|
| Snuck the work in the Birk' like a vet do
|
| You can’t gas me, bitch, 'cause I’m selling jet fuel
|
| Real life freaky girl live in the bedroom (Freaky)
|
| Snuck off and hit my bitch in the red room (Shh)
|
| I remember you from school, nigga, you a ho guy
|
| I don’t think nobody got the balls that I got (No)
|
| Shotgun hunter, had his whole clique hog tied
|
| Gucci Mane shotter, I’ma start a bonfire |