Feature

Least ten bands for a motherfuckin' feature

Word

At least ten bands for a feature

In be in the hood, well-respected like a preacher

Gucci Louis sneakers

Yo bitch she a eater

I fuck 'er then leave her

You dumb 'cause you treat her

Go-go to the pawn shop and get my mags up

**** pussy when I see me, they gon' cough a bag up

I got that body on me, homie I'm a never lacker

Yeah my **** movin' work, you can call us tractors

Why **** wanna be the big bad wolf?

If a **** diss the block, he gon' get his ass whooped

He gon' get his fuckin' chain took and his brains took

Body-body bag him now his name look

Here's my wine book

I did for my biz, now she mad at me

Keep that bag with me, like-like I'ma athlete

Rollie on my wrist, and I put down a P

And I got pounds of weed, I keep them rounds with me

Wrist froze, brr it's cold

But my chain and mouth gold

Hide your bitches, hide your hoes

When you see me, ****

And every time you beat your ho that's BV ****

I see me, a Stevie ****, glasses on our 3D ****

Yeah-yeah-yeah-yeah

Check it, check it, check it, check it

Yeah, yeah, yeah

And I'm in this bitch and I'm frontin'

Yeah-yeah-yeah

And I'm in the bitch and I'm frontin'

Yeah-yeah-yeah

Off the zone with it, off the zone with it

****, playin' with the block wrong, he get dome-splitted

He get dome-splitted, he get dome-splitted

If a **** talkin' to, aim it, we gon' shoot with it

We gon' shoot with it, we gon' really shoot with it

We got groove with it, yeah, we got to move with it

I'm a let the fool answer it , got the crew with it, hey

Talkin' on your boo, if she let the crew hit it, man

You know what's goin' on ****

You know we's blowin' strong ****

That's a bitch, spread her thong, ****

And you gon' kiss her when she get home, ****

Block-block-block-block

It's block-block-block-block

Yeah

Yeah

Crib-crib-crib-crib-crib