You be talkin' 'bout me to the **** run with you

Then see me out and dick suck and now them boys uncomfortable

Now all the real steppers up your blick in this bitch

Every **** I don't like gettin' stripped in this bitch

Huh?

Ayy (Helluva made this beat, baby)

Hmm

Now all the real steppers up your blick in this bitch

I hope a bitch **** get pistol-whipped to this shit

Every **** I don't like gettin' stripped in this bitch

Any sudden move, boy, you gettin' hit with this blick, bitch

Every **** in here jack shit and take hits

My lil' **** whack shit, he don't wanna take pics

If you wanna beat that body, then you better hire Blake, jit

My lil' **** bake shit, you better send that pape', bitch

Every **** in here with me clique and catch bodies

If I tell 'em I don't like you, then you gettin' stretched probably

Simple math, subtract ****, it ain't shit to solve a problem

And if you hidin' and I want you, I'm puttin' this shit on your mama

And if you wanna be around the gang, catch a body, ****

Hop up in that striker with me, we them young **** 'round the city

Catch him out and hit him, kill everything with him

Oh, they pissed? Have my lil' **** sic 'em

No kizzy, every time I go slide, my lil' **** go with me

We be huntin' shit, hop out, bustin' shit around the city

I get busy, I can't let a **** trick me, this shit tricky

I don't want no borin' gun, I want a fully or a switchy, bitch, I'm picky

Now all the real steppers up your blick in this bitch

I hope a bitch **** get pistol-whipped to this shit

Every **** I don't like gettin' stripped in this bitch

Any sudden move, boy, you gettin' hit with this blick, bitch

Every **** in here jack shit and take hits

My lil' **** whack shit, he don't wanna take pics

If you wanna beat that body, then you better hire Blake, jit

My lil' **** bake shit, you better send that pape', bitch (Oh, yeah)

Ayy, Glocks in the air, Glocks in the air (Talkin' 'bout 9s, 40s, four-fives, put them bitches in the air)

Shots at his hair, we don't send shots in the air (Bah, bah)

Chops in the air, chops in the air (AKs, Dracs, ****, ARPs, ****, what up?)

Try to box in this bitch and get you boxed like some squares (Bah)

Got money, but they bitches, catch 'em slippin', take that Rollie off (Give me that)

He been talkin' crazy, but he hidin', what his homie cost? (Okay)

Bitch, we from the D, we don't say taco, duck your Coney dog (Bah)

Thought he was a demon, Skilla nailed him to the holy cross (Pussy-ass)

My **** be on street shit (Yeah), headshot, sleep quick (Yeah)

Cook up all the beef shit (Yeah), crime in the D shit (Oh, yeah)

These **** really dumb enough to go against some millionaires (Okay)

I'm talkin' they catch you in Somerset and they gon' kill you there (Brr, huh?)

Now all the real steppers up your blick in this bitch

I hope a bitch **** get pistol-whipped to this shit

Every **** I don't like gettin' stripped in this bitch

Any sudden move, boy, you gettin' hit with this blick, bitch

Every **** in here jack shit and take hits

My lil' **** whack shit, he don't wanna take pics

If you wanna beat that body, then you better hire Blake, jit

My lil' **** bake shit, you better send that pape', bitch

Bitch, we from the D, we don't say taco, duck your Coney dog