Hope I end up in the trap hall of fame, too much meds on me I feel heavenly

I can't have nobody but myself

Pulling off in a fast car, this ain't Nascar

Bad bitch, she gon' do what I say so, Cause I get to the bankroll

And you know I'm gon' count out the pesos

I know some big bros, they get you hit for the low, If you don't pay what you owe

I hang with gang members, killers and robbers and drug dealers

You won't catch me next to a broke ****, they make me nervous

Pulling up in that foreign, I earned it

Counting six figures, yeah, If he talking out his mouth, he get disfigured

Serving drugs like pharmacists We got more ammunition than army tent

This ain't Toys R Us, you can't play with us

I been getting money, I can show you how to run it up

I could put that on my life If my gun wanna jam, then I'm pulling out my knife

And I don't need no wife, I got seven bad hoes, yeah, one for each night

And if I get lonely then the bread keep me right

And the perks keep me nice And I don't like to fight, but my gun like to bite

And I got two cups filled up with dirty Sprite

Yeah, yeah alright

I ain't worried I got diamonds in the bezel and it's blurry

Wrist so heavy that it's hurting

Let me know it's working, let me know if it's hurting

Need that Rolls Royce, so I'm counting money behind the curtain

Remember when them hoes ignored me, now they flirting

Now they asking for a Birkin

Where were you when I was down on my luck

Where were you when I couldn't get up? They fucking with me cause I got some

So I ain't fucking with them cause they ain't got none