Huh, yeah, yeah

You talkin' 'bout Glokk, you ain't talkin' 'bout nothin', ****

You ain't talkin' 'bout Glokk, you ain't talkin' 'bout

Yeah, frrat

My motherfuckin' Glock, this bitch vital, omertà that spot, move in silence

I'm pissed off, that shit make me violent, I'm droppin' rakes, put the fork down like a trident

Your bitch, she keep lookin', she likin' too, it's like a biker, two horns on his head, he bison

He sold his soul just so they like him, it's frightenin', I missed all the signs like a Pisces

I'm righteous, but Mr. RipOff not the nicest

Advices to help your ass out, I'ma type it, I tried it, these **** know that I'm the idol

They put Baby Whoa on a vinyl, I'm tryna go platinum, the title

I'm goin' back and forth with my rivals

The Glock, that bitch get me excited, I know that I'm smilin'

He think that he got the one up one me, ****, the slightest

I'm really tryin' not to be biased

Hang under my belt with the beast and I cross 'em and pop 'em, lil' boy try to reach

Drop money, made sure it's enough for they fleet

**** tripped up, ain't no shoes on they feet

I fucked up on drank, ain't know I fell asleep

Duct tape his mouth, I don't want him to speak

My life expensive, can't stop movin' cheap

He got a problem, Glock put him to sleep

He paintin' nails, man, I knew he was sweet

Got chased down the block and ain't seen him in weeks

She sucked my dick and that shit was too weak

But everybody had told me go try out the freak

Plot on they block for two weeks, but I'm tryna get get-back for **** put hands on lil' Reke

Let me hangout in the trap when I was young, so, on God, I'll take my lil' Glock to the creek

****, I'm not finna wrestle

I pull out that Glock and rock out, heavy metal

He tryna be different, that boys not a rebel

Oh, you see the police? Then press on the pedal

Just Band Love poppin' shit off on my level

Fifteen bands in a ripped up sweater

My brother say he a five-fifth, he catch metal

Don't care if he trap, he get took down for sellin'

She on her knees, she pray five times to Mecca

It might be fake, just go look at the bezel

Take him down with you like Hansel and Gretel

He not a demon, tryna look like the devil

Goddamn, the drugs, gotta figure out the schedule

My trap buckin', everybody together

Chrome Heart pants and the stich on the leather

The vamps, they gon' get on your ass if you let 'em

Out of town, I caught the boy in Atlanta

Spin in the Rolls-Royce, talkin' 'bout the Phantom

Fucked up on drank, we done poured all the Fanta

Hang with the shooters, you hang with the scammers

Play with us, problems, they gotta get handled

I'm drivin', but I got my hands on the handles

You know I'm on fire like a candle

Play with the Wolves like Julius Randle

My motherfuckin' Glock, this bitch vital, omertà that spot, move in silence

I'm pissed off, that shit make me violent, I'm droppin' rakes, put the fork down like a trident

Your bitch, she keep lookin', she likin' too, it's like a biker, two horns on his head, he bison

He sold his soul just so they like him, it's frightenin', I missed all the signs like a Pisces

I'm righteous, but Mr. RipOff not the nicest

Advices to help your ass out, I'ma type it, I tried it, these **** know that I'm the idol

They put Baby Whoa on a vinyl, I'm tryna go platinum, the title

I'm goin' back and forth with my rivals

The Glock, that bitch get me excited, I know that I'm smilin'

He think that he got the one up one me, ****, the slightest

I'm really tryin' not to be biased