Yeah, yeah, uh

I spilled lean on my pants (Ooh, yeah)

I just spilled on my—

Yeah, I spilled lean on my pants

I just spilled lean on my—

Yeah, I spilled, yeah, yeah

Yeah, I spilled lean on my pants

This ho wanna fuck, she don't know who I am

Blew a hundred thousand, I play with them bands

Woah, baby, I'm harder to impress

He want the smoke, I ain't savin' no rest

Flew out to LA to pick up a check

They tryna figure out my next move

Doin' drugs, that's what I'm into

Bitch, I'm the man 'round here

You can get robbed broad day 'round here

I'm blowin' gas in the atmosphere

He paid for a song, but I ain't get it cleared

Woah, racks on top of racks

I need my trunk in the front, not the back

Every day the weekend, I don't ever relax

She mad at me, I ignored her text

I got rain on the windows

You can really die, bro

That bitch said I jumped in too deep, now I'm just 'bout to drown, bro

I got some racks, yeah (Racks, yeah)

I got some racks, yeah (Racks, yeah)

Wanna get my money big, look at my stacks, yeah (Stacks, yeah)

This ho up on my dick, she wanna kiss, no (Kiss, no)

Yeah, that bitch gave me head, you got your mind blown

I gotta get up and get me a check, yeah (Check, yeah)

What you gon' do?

**** can die just for simple beef on Internet threads, yeah (Threads, yeah)

I can count this money all day (Money all day)

Huh, huh, huh

She just wanna play with the sleigh (Play with the sleigh)

Play, play, play

I spilled lean on her pants

Now she gotta wear my pants

This shit up, stuck, it's in the fuckin' sky, it ain't comin' back

Pass that fuckin' cup, I'm sick as fuck, I'm high up on these meds

I'm screamin', "B-I-P" to Spook, I got that ho up on my dick

Man, that **** play with the gas, yeah

I'm on codeine, she on X

Yeah, I spilled lean on my pants

This ho wanna fuck, she don't know who I am

Blew a hundred thousand, I play with them bands

Woah, baby, I'm harder to impress

He want the smoke, I ain't savin' no rest

Flew out to LA to pick up a check

They tryna figure out my next move

Doin' drugs, that's what I'm into

Bitch, I'm the man 'round here

You can get robbed broad day 'round here

I'm blowin' gas in the atmosphere

He paid for a song, but I ain't get it cleared

Woah, racks on top of racks

I need my trunk in the front, not the back

Every day the weekend, I don't ever relax

She mad at me, I ignored her text