Ayy, I still drink, yeah, on the

Devil at the door I thought about, uh, ayy, ayy

I still drink syrup on the regular

Devil at the door, I thought 'bout lettin' in

I still never choose y'all over medicine

I'm a dumb jock, five thousand on the letterman

How I make junkie look elegant?

Tune don't like nobody, and he yellin' it

You can ask, "How much for a verse?" But it's irrelevant

I think all you **** flat and I'm prayin' you get back

In Skyami in the Bentley, I'd still rather it be a Track'

MOB, that shit the biggest, crush whoever in the path

**** think they own yo' soul if they helped you in the past

She think I'm a lying one 'cause she don't sell it, but it's cap

I sent money back home, I thought I made it all for that

I ain't even know what was comin', there's **** sold they soul for that

I can act like shit 'bout money, but I be speakin' what's on my mind

Would I be taken for what it is? I can't even feel my face, know my, uh

I can't even feel my face, know my heart pumped none

I make youngins run the huddle, I got richer because I'm stubborn

And I still can't fake 'cause it embarrass the ones who love me

If it get ugly, they'll probably go and risk it all for me

I be hopin' it relate, but your life too different from me

And I still can't, ay, ay, ay

I still sip syrup on the regular

Devil at the door, I thought 'bout lettin' in

I'll still never choose y'all over medicine

I'm a dumb jock, five thousand on the letterman

How I make junkie look elegant?

Tune don't like nobody, and he yellin' it

Great like that