| Ha, yeah, hey, yeah, haha
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| Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah
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| Like, ha, bags, the motherfucking bag, you heard?
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| Yo, yeah, uh
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| Used to do walk ups, now they try and pay us for a walk through
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| Ain’t beefin' with no rappers 'cause my niggas they’ll chalk you
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| And thats the type of drama I ain’t needin'
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| Between Akademiks and twitter, I don’t make it to the weekend
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| Fuck, his niggas bomin' like they CBS, I was in the trenches slangin' cedar, yes
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| Cutting up the heroin with Dilaudid just so we can stretch
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| Take a hundred thousand off the movies, let 'em keep the rest
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| Turn crack cocaine into the VVS, talkin' that fly shit
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| S 600, eatin' Hibachi with chopsticks, Givenchy’d down gettin' top in the
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| cockpit
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| Y’all don’t fuckin' hear me though
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| I’m on a yacht, pourin' Tech up in the flute like it’s Chardonnay
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| Lobster tail and scallops out in Mandalay
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| Dolce and Gabana drippin' on me when the camera blink
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| No service where we at, so you can’t hear a thing
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| No lifeguard on duty, peep the fucking beauty
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| I fucked the bitch, lil Uzi slappin' on the booty
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| Balenciaga boxers 250 for a package of 3
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| Week in the streets keepin' it G, I keep the average in Jeep
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| They talkin' trap, but ain’t a fiend that could vouch for 'em
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| Come to me, had fiends trappin' out they house for him
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| Auntie cool, but don’t be tellin' they ain’t stashin' nothing
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| Always gotta hand out, tryna grab something
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| Know I keep a shooter that’ll stab something
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| And a dyke when hoes acting brazy, that’ll rag something
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| Still shoutin' out my self on my last run in
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| Nigga, word to mommy, if a pussy try me
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| We gon' do him in the lobby, send him where Allah be
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| Talk cocky, walk properly, know that God got me
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| Snitch niggas, sent the peoples tryna Fox 5 me
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| I’m somewhere that you can’t find me with like 5 thotties
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| Them IG bitches with a million likes right by me
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| I’m on the phone, talkin' money on the vac sealer
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| And niggas still callin' back 'cause the pack killer
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| Little disclaimer, we don’t ever argue, eat a dick, hater
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| Can’t talk baller to a spectator
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| Still jumpin' out the Mazi rockin' Margiela
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| Thousand dollar jeans on, and I just walk better
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| Rocking Off-White in the off weather
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| They ain’t fuckin' with the boy, never (nah)
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| They ain’t fuckin' with the boy, never
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| Like, 6−0, ha, Fastmoney shit |