| Yung Renzel, where ma nigga Keason
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| (Maybach music) Empire state of mine
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| New money, Prenny’s running, ain’t wet
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| I love that, No tense
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| I need you to send my beer hoe
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| If you ain’t handlin' business, you ain’t boss nigga (huh)
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| You whipping 6 figures, you ain’t flossing nigga (huh)
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| Send that bitch in to get her ass done out in Mexico (woo)
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| Triple up, we could profit off the videos (yeah)
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| You ain’t handlin' business, you ain’t boss nigga (huh)
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| You whipping 6 figures, you ain’t flossing nigga (huh)
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| Send that bitch in to get her ass done out in Mexico (woo)
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| Triple up, we could profit off the videos (yeah)
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| If you ain’t handlin' business, you ain’t boss nigga (huh)
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| You whipping 6 figures, you ain’t flossing nigga (hoh)
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| Send that bitch in to get her ass done out in Mexico (woo)
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| Triple up, we could profit off the videos (yeah)
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| Pop in mali, then we do the polygraph (woh)
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| She would slide with poppy poly for a autograph (facts)
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| Got it poppin' then am tipping on the stair (facts)
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| Couple watches kept the baddest bitches in the bed (woo)
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| Fuck house arrest, moving how I want to move
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| They in the news now they call me Ricky chronicles (what)
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| Flip the page as you see am touching more paper (more paper)
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| Get the bitch, now they screaming, Rosey don’t save her
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| At the light I let it out, you like a player wood (glare wood)
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| Do it two fingers, just like I say I would (holla at you)
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| And I run the city just as the mayor should (boss)
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| Give the power to the people, trust me, that ain’t good
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| You ain’t got no haters, you ain’t poppin' nigga (you ain’t poppin' nigga)
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| Whole click, now to get it poppin' nigga (get it poppin' nigga)
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| His stando hanging out my Polo bosses nigga (Polo bosses nigga)
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| Po, pop shots, dream about boxing nigga
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| Box a nigga in his game and they tyrna box me out (uh huh)
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| Charles Barkley in the pace that you never rebound (that's it)
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| I try to tell her, I don’t love her, she’s just the rebound (let's get it)
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| But she don’t listen, matter a fact, that’s her texting me now
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| I got to get it, I’m poppin', that’s how am living
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| Text poppin', yeah I admit it
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| Order some
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| Cause these bitches know they be sippin'
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| Lord knows they be thirsty, Lord knows I’ve been working (Lord)
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| I’ve been positively killing these niggas, they know it’s certain
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| I be in a week, fans and weep, fans with my wheat
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| Tam seeing bread through these wheat (I see it)
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| Plans go a week, bitch long hair, we
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| Weave in, young poppi, young king
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| Niggas better peeps you, Keese
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| Young nigga with his pistol in his chain now (bam)
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| If they hate’n cause you striping out the slam house (aah)
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| For and some things we do to people pays
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| My paper set up, unplugged, am in the drug trade
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| I grew up with the killers and the robbers niggas
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| They’d strip you out that bomb and ain’t no robbers nigga
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| Not the type they entertain what you pussies tweet
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| Cause I could pop you with 'em things, see you in the street
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| I’m really ready to wide and wreck the father rules
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| Show you how I divide up all the work and move
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| So now you understand why these niggas hate
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| So homie you ain’t poppin' if them niggas ain’t
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| A quarter kia have a nigga straight
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| Been in this bitch so long, I watch the beaker break
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| I talk dope cause it’s universal
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| You and all black slide nigga, you a lurk |