Look, field trips, not in fifth grade, but I take those

Been on quite a few in my time, I plan to take more

Check the score, nobody on your side known to let it blow

But get up on the 'net and try to boast, you know how that shit go

Duck and roll, when I come through you better duck and roll

If you don't, it's consequences, you get your pumpkin scoped

Beef with me, more consequences, you get your cousin smoked

Who said I'm broke? Boy, that must've been a fuckin' joke

I don't go broke, I just hit the field and got me another loaf

And said I was done tryna pimp, went and found another ho

Went down for the bip, but I went and bopped another load

Two straps, dressed like Jehovah in front your mother door

It's treacherous, grab them super soakers and get to drenchin' shit

My **** got them bodies, cold killer but never mentioned it

You let the bitch go 'cause she's a ho, but you still miss the bitch

Dick down your bitch throat and your bitch swallowed, I watched you kiss the bitch

Stupid lil' human

You know the main code and you still told, why you do it?

You see me, you keep it movin'

Free them innocent three who went down for that shootin', ****

Ayy, look, man, I wasn't even gon' keep it lit, man

Ayy, look, I was gon' let you **** breathe

I was gon' take my foot off you ****' necks, man

But my **** told me keep this shit rockin'

So I'ma keep this shit rockin' for my ****, man

Ayy, look, look

I said I'm back in, if he try to run, blow his back in

Knock his head off his shoulders, got him lookin' like he Pac-Man

I just stacked ten, in a minute I might start trappin'

I ain't never been to Green Bay, but you know I run that pack in

Mop, mop, mop

That's the sound of that thang when I'm yankin' on that chop

He pilin' thirty, thirty shots

Fuck that lil' thirty stick, this FN came twenty stock

When he seen it, he was amazed, this bitch'll blow him out his socks

Already ate today, but get to chewin' at the opps

And I'm a **** with a bag, that's everything you **** not

And all that Hollywood actin', boy, that shit had better stop

'Cause I ain't actin' with the Glock, I get active with the Glock

Send that bitch and shoot it this way, I got tackles with the Glock

Plus I'm Mr. Keep-Stick, and I'm known to keep a Glock

But this baby XD came brand nookie out the box

Brand nookie out the box, **** shootin' down the block

Broad day, trynna leave a **** kufi on they block

****, I ain't 'bout to box, whip it out, let off some shots

**** fuckin' with the opps, playin' both sides'll get him popped

Slide to the trap, me and Nick hit for twenty cash

We was already up ten, that's twenty thousand, do the math

I got bitches shakin' ass, I like bitches with no class

And I'm player as fuck, baby, I won't trip, you fuck my mans

That don't mean I ain't tryna fuck, bitch, I still wanna stab

Put my finger in her butt while she in the three-point stance

She know the word to every song, guess I'm finna fuck my fan

And her sister dig me too, so I'ma keep it in the fam'

We just bipped another load, sticky chicky had them band bands

We just kicked another door, sticky chicky had them gram grams

Bitch, I always play the field, I ain't never in the damn stands

Bitch, I had hella cases, I ain't never took the damn stand

Bitch, it's the Don Dada, I'ma stand on what I said

****, I ain't squashin' shit, I ain't throwin' no white flags

**** play, get him bagged, in the pen', I get him stabbed

These **** really think I'm a rapper, better check my street cred'

Before I was known for a verse, I was gettin' **** stepped on

Found the **** who killed my brother, shit, y'all know how the rest go

Gun shells in his face, give a fuck he had a vest on

****, this no cap, I ain't just rhyming for no damn song, **** (For real, ****)

For real, ****

We been steppin' on ****, ****

This shit ain't new

I run that sack in

Chase a **** down, blow his back in

Just left Harry Potter in the 'Nolia, I'm in the Point ditching Pac-Man

White people on my dick, they hate a young paid black man

They know I'm fightin' in the 'jects, I keep a gun, can't let 'em jack me

Knock, knock, knock

That's me knockin' on your door before I'm breaking in your spot

You hollerin' thirty, thirty shots

Fuck that lil' thirty stick, I threw a drummy on this chop

When we slide, we want a homi', even the driver bouncin' out

Bitch, my **** known killers, we known for chasin' **** down

Give two fucks who get hit, bitch, I'm airin' out the crowd

Bitch, I'm really with the shits, go everywhere I'm not allowed

Doin' donuts in the six-speed, turn the 'jects to a sideshow

****, I ain't hard to find, but I'm hard to kill, I keep that fire on

I'm in traffic with that static, I ain't duckin' shit but five-o

Got used to that bag, account assault him with a blindfold

That **** really don't want no body, **** shootin' with his eyes closed

'Fore you reach for this chain, you need to think, this somethin' to die for?

****

For real, ****

Yeah

Free the thugs, ****