Come on

Uh, come on

Ayy, uh, alright

Come on, alright

It's the Buttonboy, I hop out, let that button roll

Popped out the cut, I seen his face and start fuckin' blastin'

We hit that side, tryna get it on, tryna get a fuckin' basket (Tryna get a fuckin' basket, ****)

Broski bunny-hop all on the P, I swear that shit was tragic

A **** trip, that's when you push up and just let him have it

Use my fear, jump from out that V, I really get shit crackin'

They headshot Pooj and Skeezy ran, like why the fuck y'all lackin'? (Like why the fuck y'all lackin', ****?)

Walkin' on the J's with my first hot and I just got to clappin'

Lil' Cap got belted at his job, like how the fuck that happen?

Bounce out on the 3, bro, on the guys, I'ma just start to blackin'

I was a baby, just thirteen (I was a baby, just thirteen, ****) when I had start to trappin'

Fuck the opps, I really stand on biz, I'm tired of **** cappin'

I punched on 1mere, bro, on the guys, I should've left him nappin'

Space out with the button and keep on blowin' until he fuckin' trippin'

If he try to run, you chase him down and keep on fuckin' blickin' (And keep on fuckin' blickin', ****)

Bounce out, catch my bucket on they block and then I'm fuckin' dippin' (Uh)

I punched on Cas, he tried to get up, but he was fuckin' limpin'

Creepin' on that block, we got that drop and now we fuckin' sittin'

I tapped the button on them ****, I had them **** bitchin'

These lil' bitches thots, so when bro done, you know we fuckin' switchin'

I be thinkin' like, "I should've shot 'til he was fuckin' twitchin'"

I never bitched, come test my hand and we can get it on

Lil' bro see him out, test his hand or he gon' get to blowin'

Lil' Chris, he a bitch, I chased him down, like where the fuck you goin'?

Don't come through here, we takin' hots since you wanna be out showin' (Since you wanna be out showin', ****)

I catch young boul, I'm jumpin' out and I'm gon' throw a round

If he try to run, I'm hawkin' down, lil' boy, I'm on your tail (Lil' boy, I'm on your fuckin' tail)

Bubba got the belt, flew down the steps, shit, make that **** tell

I space right out and tap the button, then that **** fell

My boul been locked up all his life, man, all he know his jail

Can't wait 'til I get them pounds in, ship right through the mail (****)

Ain't sellin' buttons, but come hit me, I can get you stitchy

She like, "What's that on the back of your Glock?" Lil' bitch, that's called a switchy

That's that bitch that make a **** trip and fall and hit the griddy

We hit blocks and droppin' bombs, be tryna drop more than fifty (Look)

I don't even know this bitch-ass young boul, why the fuck he diss me?

Fucked her once, she keep textin' my phone, keep talkin' 'bout she miss me (****)

A **** got hit in his back, they made him pull a Ricky

I want a bitch, but I ain't gon' lie, I be too fuckin' picky

Breakin' down the za, shit got my hands so goddamn fuckin' sticky

600 got shot at like nine, that young boul been a viccy

Fear Buckets ain't on shit, ain't never been

Young boul angrier in them songs, he really miss his fuckin' twin

I really boom on ****, man, don't make me do that shit again (Don't make me do that shit again, ****)

Bouncin' out, I get that drop, I bet I go in for the win

This for the win, ****, come on, uh

Uh, bouncin' out, I get that— I bet I go in for the win

This for the win, ****, come on, uh, come on

Free Baby Kha, ****

****, free Baby Kha, ****

Lil' bro really bang on shit just like he Wemby, uh

**** tell or finna get up with me, uh

Hit they block, I bet I come through droppin' fifty, ****