What up, Mark?

(Ayo, Mark A)

In the UFO off moon rock, I might be a Martian

'Gelo and Lamelo, me and D hitting threes in Charlotte

You won't see me out unless you catch me leaving Neiman Marcus

I'll flash a long-sleeve, let me take the sleeve and park it

Coffee cup full of Wock' and pop, this ain't Tim Horton's

Before my face card was hot, I had been scorching

Steak fiend, this the third time this week I hit Morton's

Whip roaring, hopping out 'Iagas, only drip foreign

Track one, step it, track one, swipe it

Road running, shoutout Yachty, think that I'ma one night it

Scat Pack with the wasp, finna buzz by 'em

Where the tester at? I told your ass that these some Hutch diamonds

Woke up, made a dub, you ain't even brush your teeth yet

Hundred rounder just so he don't get the chance to cheat death

If I slide down, it's only gon' be some debris left

12 on the right, dumbass, you gotta swing left

What I learned is backdoors is something you can't leave open

Chopstick, every shot auto, guess I'm free throwing

High as hell 'cause the weed and the drink potent

Bumped into Peezy up in Hutch, he told me, "Keep going"

Hey

Hey

Told my akhi grab his turban, time to firebomb some shit

If you ain't down to die in the ride, then why you hopping in?

MacBook open, blowing 'Woods, finna politic

At Ruth's Chris, heard you still take McDonald's trips

Match your four in his deuce, I just dropped a six

Buffs on, pass some paper towel or some snot gon' drip

Ele' Delle Donne, you shoot a shot, my bitch gon' block your shit

I mean swat your shit, taking off like a rocket ship

Mike Amiris skinny, thirty K, now that's some thigh pads

Hating on the ShittyBoyz, well, you gon' die mad

Mister V12, fuck around and see me fly past

Told the plug I need the whole 'bow, you copping dime bags

What the fuck is going on nowadays?

What up, Hokatiwi?

(It's Hokatiwi)

Hey, hey, hey, hey, hey, hey, hey, bitch

ShittyBoyz

Down in the A with a stick, feel like Chipper Jones

Score first play, you the type to need a fifth and goal

Bitch got a dub in her Lulus, got her pigeon toed

Sleeve Nash, specialize in pick-and-rolls and give-and-gos

Reach for this chain, get him blew, call him indigo

Spend it while I can, I don't know if I'm living long

Shoutout unky in the kitchen, call him Mister Get-It-Gone

Mama said if you start weak, gotta finish strong

I guess I took the shit and ran with it

Wouldn't start beef, that's the shit that had your mans missing

In the Land Rover going fast, might not land in it

If I miss a shot, I can guarantee that Stan hit it

I'm a living legend, you a poor bum

Why you talking shit? Better make sure them chores done

Scam god, ran it up by my fourth run

Christian Loubs got me sticking out like a sore thumb

(Jose the Plug)

(Primo Beats on the track)

What up, Jose?

What up, Primo?

Hey, hey, hey, yeah, yeah, bitch

Hmm

In the black 'Cat, see me drive by, that's bad luck

Quarter of the Runtz, deuce of Wocky, I can't stand up

These the newest white buffs, you can ask Hutch

Stop flashing ten, I just did that off the last punch

Ksubis full of dog shit, I had to pull my pants up

Stop with the tough role just because your mans cut

Stop with the rich act, flashing all your pop's money

I'll rip a thousand in your face, this ain't no prop money

Let me see that pint, dude, I think your Wock' funny

White Hanes in the Christian Loubies, left the socks bloody

White tee from the liquor store, if you know, you know

He won't even look me in the eyes, he a ho for sure

The way I'm balling 'round this bitch, I think I'm going pro

Before you hop up in the game, you better know the ropes

Riding with the tint 'cause I'm hip to all the jealousy

Living like a king, never could you peasant me

Catching up to me in life, shit, maybe eventually

I'm like a door you gotta pull, it ain't no pressing me

Phew

Yeah, yeah, yeah

I'm like a door you gotta pull, it ain't no pressing me

Huh, ayy, ShittyBoyz

Dog Shit Militia

Phew, bitch