On My Son (feat. Moneybagg Yo)

Ring, ring, ring Hello? Got a call from my lawyer, say my youngin' fightin' a murder (what?) The police officers lyin' and the prosecutor dirty (you're telling me you built a time machine?) But the judge still fuck with me Bitch, them Bloods get touched for cheap I sell two for eight apiece I might turn one of 'em to three If they say that shit was straight, I might turn that three to eight I know P, I fuck with H (I know P, I fuck with H) Really had the bag for years, passed alone, I'm cashin' too Bustdown watch, my glasses too Tez had bean, I had the food Flip that screen, I see myself R.I.P. Scooter, R.I.P. Lil Neff That homicide shit still get stretched Free Lil Quez, free Lil Dunk Better get you soon, nigga, on my son Bustdown Pateks with chunks I wear baguettes for none, don't make this shit 'bout no money Make that lil' bitch delete my number Soon as I can't fuck her, now I don't want her Close to 40s, all my pointers Offset Forgis, this bitch fast Ain't shit changed, still free my guys Wood 'nem back in there like a mop Six to nine, bitch, don't get dropped Hey, hey, fuck it I'm late, Supreme, not Bape, for mines Get naked, I might start ringing, bring pints We drinkin', high as hell up in this bitch Still miss Nell up in this bitch I can't tell if that bitch is real I won't tell my nigga to chill I don't give a fuck 'bout who get killed I don't give a fuck 'bout who get blitzed Drop that five, nigga, throw that shit Eight out of ten still on my dick Still fuck friend, keep that bitch far It was just us, still got eight-hundred TSA mad, can't take a nigga money If I let a bitch steal from me, get shot Woah (woah), woah (woah) Can't wait 'til I run 'til a nigga get robbed, get smoked, smoked Never let a nigga 'round me throwin' five (ah, hahaha) Gunshot, pain in my ass We pour out lean for my big bro Mox Walk a nigga down on four-five Glocks (go) I ain't spread an opp since I been rich (no) Handicap match, big Glock, lil' switch (pfft) Fuck out my ear with that whinin' shit (move) You blowin' my vibe, pipe down, lil' bitch (gone) If Duggy don't fuck with you, don't be like, "Bagg, know what's up with me" I cannot vouch what you done (nah) If you don't fuck with him, you don't rock with the brand (ooh) CMG mafia, cars, money, guns (super) Just made his bond for a light honey bun Hop on a fugitive, bro on the run The F&N knock all the smoke out your lung (bop) The head was so fire, made a young nigga hum, uh Sloppy-top, got me locked, Birkin, pussy, she havin' WAP (wet) Box of woods, Q-P of Za, purple Wock' and cream soda pop (kick) Eeenie-meenie, miney-mo (bliss) Put a tag up on his toe (tick) Charge the high for truffle smoke Pour up in Sprite and sell the Coke, go Whip all white, pull up like pope (snow) Five shows, it's a M I gross (woah) Big facts, I ain't even tryna boast (no) Bitches love me coast to coast (yeah) Eight out of ten still on my dick Still fuck friend, keep that bitch far It was just us, still got eight-hundred TSA mad, can't take a nigga money If I let a bitch steal from me, get shot Woah (woah), woah (woah) Can't wait 'til I run 'til a nigga get robbed, get smoked, smoked Never let a nigga 'round me throwin' five Gunshot, pain in my ass We pour out lean for my big bro Mox Walk a nigga down on four-five Glocks