Probably! (feat. YEAT)

Yeah I told that bitch, "You can fuck who you want" "You just can't fuck a nigga who really ain't hard as me" Ain't got a million, it's more like 100,000 in my bank But I promise that's fine with me You really out here stressin' 'bout a bitch that I fuck on the weekends That ain't even fine to me Used to get curved by this one bitch 'til she seen the blue check And now she really got fond of me Had to go cop me a 'Vette, I got tired of the Benzo It just wasn't fast enough, honestly Want a Republic, Columbia, Capitol Best have a bag if you thinkin' 'bout signing me Dip for like five or six million The only way I'm finna be in the studio constantly Come with like three or four mill' on the table You just might get label to sign me yeah, probably (let's go) Baguettes on my body, VS on my body It hang from my neck like a motherfuckin' ornament (let's go) We just hit Louis, then Gucci, then Prada, then oowee 'Cause we wanna get us some garments Back in the day, we was sellin' the work and the Percs Out the motherfuckin' back of apartments Barber leg look like El Chapo, 'cause he got the gas on the gas Yeah, the gardens on gardens I'm 'bout to spoil myself, so I bought me a Rollie See we goin' where? (Rollie) Yeah, up (Rollie, Rollie) Yeah, racks on racks, we goin' up (Rollie, Rollie) And I know you mad 'cause your bitch wan' fuck Bro keep that-, bro keep that semi, keep that tucked Walk in this bitch with a whole lot of money on me (let's go) And the blick on my side, I might die tonight I think that it's got to the point where we got too much money on us So we blow it like dynamite (yeah) And I just beat a 'Rari in a race, yeah, I was in a Jeep (skrr, hey) Nextel called me up, said they wan' come sign, sign me With two ex-bitches, they both Siamese Niggas be bitches, I got somethin' for 'em You run up on me, choppa knock out your molars Rino just poured up a whole 'nother deuce Man, I swear it's like he never run out of soda I made a lil' too much money this year Had to say, "Fuck a bank", stuff this shit in the sofa My new bitch stay in New York Finna get some new season Moncleezy for when it get colder She be like, "Papas, I need some Chanel, Fendi, Balenciga to throw on my shoulder" She get whatever she want 'cause her mama's the sweetest The only thing I ever told her The XD, the XD, the XD, yeah, I got the XD She be everywhere with a holster Come test me, come test me, come test me Lil' nigga, come test me, I'm not like the rest of these locals Confetti, confetti, confetti, shit blow like confetti Oh, what? You thought it wasn't loaded? Drivin' the Z51 like a psycho, police probably thinkin' I stole it It's all I did, maybe he wanna be me My style, yeah, my swag, yeah, you stole it Tired of my sons thinkin' they can compete with me Fuck it, guess I can't control it I told that bitch, "You can fuck who you want" "You just can't fuck a nigga who really ain't hard as me" Ain't got a million, it's more like 100,000 in my bank But I promise that's fine with me You really out here stressin' 'bout a bitch that I fuck on the weekends That ain't even fine to me Used to get curved by this one bitch 'til she seen the blue check And now she really got fond of me Had to go cop me a 'Vette, I got tired of the Benzo It just wasn't fast enough, honestly Want a Republic, Columbia, Capitol Best have a bag if you thinkin' 'bout signing me Dip for like five or six million The only way I'm finna be in the studio constantly Come with like three or four mill' on the table You just might get label to sign me yeah, probably (yeah)