Intro

Yeah, shit'll go

Broke lil' boy, counting play dough money

I chalk it as a L if the bank froze money

Two Innys showing love, out the same damn company

This week it's phones, next week it's pads coming

Percocets and bad bitches, Make sum racks and slam something

That's the mob in TRX, that ain't the regular Ram coming

30 shots at all times, I ain't no fucking crash dummy

New sauce, homegrown, wish I had it last summer

Feel like B.J. Chambers, one day I'll make 50

Fucking up the Reggie, turn in say no Master Gif

Heard you G-League ballin', you ain't ready, Frank Needy

Whole city know my name, aint see my face like Ken Griffey

When I was at a standstill, felt like a quarter mile a day

Now I'm rapping whole mill like a quarter mile away

I be hoeing city girls and I don't want no Coi leRay

I need a bitch with lotto ass and need a face like Lisa Rae

Tuck no sauce from my bros, fuck this look like Keepaway

Heard that Bin Burnt in the city, ****, fuck it, leave the state

Take out the trash, in some louis

House cleaning, in some Gucci

If the world stops spinning, Scoowop bag, keep moving

Aint keepin' record, we ain't losing

Fuck your point, ain't gotta prove it

Guarantee you when I'm gone, still get money, Mensa, Musa

Went and bought 20 guns, fell out with like seven shooters

ARPs, glicks with buttons, fuck the Smith-Wessons, and them Rugers

Thanks for watching