Fallin' Out

(Kid Wond3r, you made this beat? Damn)

Aye, out west 290 shit, bitch

No Hooks Part 2, you know how I'm rockin', ****

Get your guns up, get your funds up

You on that opp shit, get mop sticked, bitch

Face shot gang, aye (Gang)

It's so motherfuckin' hot, I catch a tan in this bitch

Like a mailman, I'm poppin' rubber bands in this bitch

We be on that hot shit, so don't get fanned in this bitch

Left the club with her, but she came with her man in this bitch

I'm so motherfuckin' high that I can't stand in this bitch

You a motherfuckin' lie, you say I ran from some shit

I probably run off on the plug, probably run off with his drugs

**** run up on me wrong, so he run into some slugs

And I'm probably in the club, in VIP with some thugs

No security with me, 'cause bitch, we deep and we got guns

Someone chasin' me, they know I brought my sack into the club

Play with me and mine, lotta **** die in cold blood

When I hit the spot, bet they lettin' out that redrum

Run up in your spot, green beams on all our guns

She got expensive taste, have my dick all on her gums

Boy, that building's vacant lots, shit, 'cause I'm from the slums

Fill a **** up with this hot shit, bitch, you better not run

Thought it was a fair fight, he ain't know I had my gun

I fucked her on the first night, and she caught my first son

Are you the toughest **** in the crowd?

Then you the first one

Aye, Lil Stewie, these hoes starstruck, they say I do some'n

You a broke ****, petty ass, using coupons

It's just me and Yae, pull up on your J with 2 guns

We ain't aimin' at your legs, bitch, we aimin' at your head, bitch

I'm eatin' good, I'm fed bitch

That Tropicana shit red, bitch

**** in the house on that scared shit, you hidin' under that bed, bitch

Vacay with my AK, got my feet all in that sand, bitch

The block on the walk up with a drum like I played in a band, bitch

I'm so motherfuckin' high that I can't see straight

The-the-these bitches see me 3D and they press replay

I-I'm a shooter, ****, I should be on EA

Cho-chopper in the front seat, that's my new bae

Yeah, you trippin', boy, you better tie your shoelace

F&N pencil bullets, don't get erased

If my bitch get out of line, she get replaced

I s-s-scratch you off the list, yeah, I hit the backspace

A-a-and my bankroll's big like my fanbase

Forensics searchin', but they still can't find the shellcases

Bi-bi-bitch, I ball like a cancer patient, I'm the shit, boy, I'm constipated

I hang around robbers and you can get your shit confiscated

I'm on the phone with Ben Franklin, money my conversation

I shoot your chest and your leg, your head, ugly combination

They-they-they mad 'cause we made it, they hatin', use 'em for motivation

I live in the fast lane, my life is a celebration

I-I-I just bought a brand new chopper, a baby K

I-I run up in a **** house, broad day

I-I been at the finish line, but y'all late

The judge want me locked down behind them tall gates

Fu-fuck these bitches, I just want the money

I-I was sellin snow when it was sunny

I-I take my time and wrap 'em like a mummy

No Hilfiger, but I brought my Tommy

Your time is runnin' out, grab my Glock and brung it out

They don't come outside 'cause they hidin', they ain't comin out

Got this big MAC with a lot of fries, ain't no runnin' out

I'm so motherfuckin' hot, bitches see me and start fallin' out (Fallin' out)

Gang, gang, gang, gang

(Yeah, No Hook Parts 2, bitch)