Hmm, keep this shit 500 ****

Aye, keep this shit 500 ****

Aye

You know we in the telly

Hotel vibes in this bitch

Yeah, it's 'bout 9:25

Let's go

Aye

Sunshine on a cloudy day

Lord washing my sins away

Bad bitch riding shotgun and she look like a young LisaRaye

Aye, I ain't finna play

Imma make me like ten today

If shit go left, I charge it to the game

Either that or this visa, mane

I'm in a oldskool droptop (uh), pushing 75 down the e-way ****

Wind blowing, my speakers blasting that Ricky ross

No freeway ****

Chevy on 22s ****

I just turned 22

In Miami, she gone pop it like I'm Uncle Luke

All that ass on her, gotta thank her momma dukes (uh)

**** be talking 'bout this (uh)

**** be talking 'bout that (uh)

Bragging and boasting about the gun clap

Fuck is you doing, go make the funds stack

The hustle is real and I love that

It ain't too many things that's above that

Do it yourself

Don't be asking for help, 'cause it really ain't even no fun in that

'Member me and patnah saying we'd risk it all for that foreign ****

Back of the Wraith, with stars in the ceiling, getting sucked off by two foreign bitches

Eh, that boss life

Bustdown look like fog lights

If we don't see tomorrow, we gone ball tonight

Word to King Nip, let's all get right (uh)

Let's all get right

And I ain't never been the flaunting type

Humble ****, had to roll the dice

Where I'm from, you fight just to live this life ****

No wonder why I'm prayed up

No wonder why these **** hate us

Our names up, and you ain't tough

You pussy **** can't tame us, nah

Then Imma let that shit ride, just a lil' bit

500 ****

Aye, keep this shit 500 ****

Imma go back in

Aye, look

R.I.P. to granny

She was president of three Fountains West and just for her, I'll touch a grammy

Who would've thought a kid from 43rd street could make it out, to feed the family

And my momma moved us out the hood and it was for the good, she would tell me

I'm not a street ****, but I soaked it up and that's why they understand me

So I don't give a fuck what ya heard

'Cause I got **** flipping birds

And I got **** moving syrup

And I know bitches faithful to the club life

They treat it like a sunday service

I'm sipping on bourbon, while I'm working

I got me a bag and not the Birkin, lil' ****

Think that's all imma put on that shit

Let me hear that