Straight Drop X3

You see his ass with the fax, the ****'s lyin'

The mule is still pilin'

Five crawling fivers

When you was in the crib busy onlinin'

I was cooking Missies gettin' sweated by trident

My trap's still boomin'

My drivvy's done bootin'

Fuck waitin' on the movie, gimme ping and I'll move it

I'm a hustler, baby, with the times I'll be movin'

Know I'm probably in my crib coolin' off with a cute thing

And don't get it twist

I ain' always been lit

Mommy worked two jobs tryna feed four kids

So I got up ten toes

And I made those trips

Then I got to ten Os

'Cause I made those flips

I'm the one that made it pop

I'm the one that made it click

Young boy did his thing

From a key to a brick

And I ain't run it for my block

And I ain't consign shit

I drop eight, your bag's large

A wolf pack with four bricks

See, 'cause I been tryna tell 'em

Me and these **** ain't the same

Fifty quid and jewels down the drain

Had the **** buggin'

Then I was like fuck it

Dropped a quick fifty on my wrist and no budget

That ain't bad nothin'

****, I ain't bitchin'

I still got these fuck **** sick to they stomachs

Ain't let a **** reach, let alone touch it

And he be getting sleep with a hole in his nugget

'Cause there burners all around me

Burnin' all the lye D

Dippin' out in AMGs and swerving 'round the night

Everybody with me, she from Saudi

And she hit a lick, she got VVS drippin' from her mouthpiece

Beefin' with these cowards, they dashin' out acid

We sendin' back bullets and just workin' with the powers

And I don't take bars or do showers

I hit strips and make a quick five bills every couple hours

'Cause my patterns be majestic

I trap up my ****, he finesse bricks

Body on me, I ain't even sexed it

And I ain't tryna sex it

I'm due to get some necking

And I might finger fuck you with a wet wrist

Six spitter spittin' what he livin'

****, I'm the truth, that's the difference

Plus I'm from alephs on my tings a little different

I grew up 'round the realest took hella Ls but we still winning

They call me Bougie Bougs

I turn down hella women

And I ain't seen the missus in a minute

'Cause I been goin' high and whipped a quick thousand grams in the kitchen

Brung back nine-fifty on the wicked, see the pattern?

Stay clique-ing

I take a L and then I reign free my **** in the cells that ain't never say a name

I sit back, light a el and peep the game

Then I touch road, and make a move for some change

See, I ain't trappin' for no fashion

Spit merely put the T in trappin'

Get a pack off and that's a rack in

Gelato with my spligs when I ash it

I'm the truth in the booth

No gassin'

Muley, gang, fuck 'em