I got a hundred in pocket I'm gone off the sauce ****

Up like I'm running yo' pockets you taking a loss ****

Don't wanna come outta pocket don't fuck with a boss ****

'Cause we got a lot on the line, we got a lot on the line

Apple sour Now and Later's, and mashed potatoes

I'd rather smash now than later, throat of a alligator

Flameproof, burning through the Backwoods and the roof in the coupe

Ain't no coupe, just a **** writing words on the stoop

We steady looking for the truth, hanging on every corner but jugging was the noose

Banging on every door in heaven like '**** where the proof?'

You don't believe me ****? Step into the artist session, don't be qualitescent

Tryna move it slow to teach us all a lesson

Ain't teaching cardio but this my heart professing, back from '88

Sitting bumping 40, pockets hurting in a major way

Told my patna 'dude just keep it black' and then I fade to gray

Back in the day, we'd blow it out my girl was Macy Gray

This game ain't free my **** pay-to-play

Off that wax I use that wax so I don't need no K to slay

Get off my back I roll my Back' then turn my back and fade away

Keep coming back like cul-de-sacs they know it's crack can't stay away

Lead heavy spit, left they heads empty like Eastmont

Mobbing like three Dots, quality that got they heads bobbing like treetops

Knotted like P knots, mobbing like T-tops, ****

I'm way out

From the other side, I'm way out

Yeah I'm hella high, I'm way out

I just caught a vibe, I'm way out

Yeah I got it

Do it for the Town I gotta go hard

I just put my **** on a new wave

Smoking to the neck I'm tryna get right

Bitch I'm Mac Mall I'm tryna get right

I got a hundred in pocket I'm gone off the sauce ****

Up like I'm running yo' pockets you taking a loss ****

Don't wanna come outta pocket don't fuck with a boss ****

'Cause we got a lot on the line, we got a lot on the line

Yo, hotboxing in the rain

My patnas dropping like flies, I’m plotting on some thangs

These rappers get robbed in Oakland for rocking all them chains

Pocket full of game, not for sale but I’m a prophet man

Lightheaded off a fanta leaf

Quantum leap, ain’t no talking ‘cause you obsolete

Don’t got to speak, yelling ‘fuck the police’

‘Cause the OPD wanna put us in the cage like slaves

G-O-D so I shoulda been praised not appraised now I’m full of rage finna OD they want us to behave

Now they wonder why a **** finna get faded I celebrated the minute I made it, uh

Past 25 now I’m hella high tryna get rid of the feeling I hate it

I love it so fuck it I gotta get down the cause

Folks not there when I’m down fuck ‘em all

Post right there in the Town till tomorrow

Now my ghost might ghostwrite for ya’ soul price get a bar

Mobbing with my brother, had some weed for sale

Now that whole pack to the neck, I don’t need a scale

Young black boy, white folks say he speaking well

I can’t even tell ‘cause we inhale we steam like we in hell the chosen one

Rolling one, hope it slow the pain, going dumb

Going numb, hold the Novocain

I know the pain, I’m back again we going orangutan, soak up game

I’m out my brain this ain’t a thang I’m way out

I'm way out

From the other side, I'm way out

Yeah I'm hella high, I'm way out

I just caught a vibe, I'm way out

Yeah I got it

Do it for the Town I gotta go hard

I just put my **** on a new wave

Smoking to the neck I'm tryna get right

Bitch I'm Mac Mall I'm tryna get right

I got a hundred in pocket I'm gone off the sauce ****

Up like I'm running yo' pockets you taking a loss ****

Don't wanna come outta pocket don't fuck with a boss ****

'Cause we got a lot on the line, we got a lot on the line

Hands up, now where they at

**** never ran but, we on the track

Hoe you better come back, and run it back

Quarterback, quarter sacks, got ‘em running back for them quarter bags

And run it off, fuck it off

Got another order that, we from where **** rob the dopeman

Hands up, put ya’ hands up, run the bag, now run it back

We gon’ take it all away, no coming back

Hundred percent hustler, just keep it lit

Only for the customers, we on some shit

Boy we coming back now, just get it lit

Boy just keep it lit just keep it lit just keep it lit

Boy just keep it lit just keep it lit just keep it lit

**** run the grams up, and run the motor

Boy my cup it runneth over, burn some doja

Baby girl I’m coming over, don’t ring ya’ phone up

**** foaming at the mouth, my cup is foaming

Styrofoam leaned up, this shit is potion

**** it’s the doja, boy this shit be potent

Floating like it’s lava, rolling like the ocean

Floating like the ‘tussin, **** got her open

**** what ya’ talking? Loud as we be smoking

Talk what you be smoking, off the rope-a-doping

**** we be coasting, **** what’s the motion what the God like?

Baby what you got it like? What I gotta like? I’m way out

Keep a package on me ‘fore I fade out, fade out

And it’s Animal Planet man I’m jamming don’t panic automatic flow habits the dough man

And I know I’m hot headed God damn it I’m not planning to stop dented I gotta go man

Now I’m ghost man

I ain’t slipping I’m just dipping through the coast man

I got a vision shit is different up in Oakland

I’m on a mission I can’t just get with the program

I’m smoking weed, drinking tea and popping Adderall

Low-key think I’m dreaming might be after all

I’m with them animals, where I live is still a zoo

Rolling this gorilla glue, got no filter tryna clear the view

Got no feelings like a killer do

Got no ceiling aim at Dylann Roof

Hella rebellious felon I’m living proof my shit uncouth so what’s the use?

Fuck a truce who got the juice you fade to black

And I got a screw loose but I won’t lose I’ma make it back

I'm way way way, I’m way out

From the other side, I'm way out

I just caught a vibe, I'm way out

I been drinking too much, I’m way out

I been thinking too much, I’m way out, way out