Credits
Lyrics
(Ooh, shit, what the fuck, Daniel?)
Huh (Danny G on the beat)
Thousand-dollar sneakers, but the tee was four-fifty
All this motherfuckin' motion, I might leave a ho dizzy
Bitch, my neck look like an ocean, your ho tryna go fishin' (Damn, JakeSand)
European sneakers, bitch, my toe say my shoe size
Quick to put an opp on FOX 2, they think he Roop Raj
Lookin' like my fuckin' overall, boy, I got two 9s
'Til I D-I-E, I'm DSM, bitch, fuck a new saga
Bust in an opp bitch, she gon' have to get her tubes tied
I'ma double back if it's green, mister two-time
Shit, catch me in that lane, RTA up on my Kool Kiys
So many fuckin' sticks up in the crib, it's a tool shop, duel shop
Brother got a Glock and like two chops
I ain't trippin' on no milli', that shit comin' in like due time
Gotta peep the signs, I can see 'em with my two eyes (Shit)
I got an eight of Stilpane, we need two pops
I was bustin' off the drank, tryna fight my nod
Shit, since a youngin, I knew I was ahead of my time
We just scored a six-pack, goin' line for line
Just know I'm burnin' out if you catch me in your town
Been runnin' miles, know they hate us up at Enterprise
Finna pour this whole eight, heard it was a drought
He don't never got no pape', love to run his mouth
Shit, I been punchin' shit like Tank, clerks, knock 'em out
What I'm hoppin' in today, you would've drove to prom
I'm ridin' solo, faced an eight, he just poured a line
Cuddy finna bust a chicken open, brodie, close the blinds
Jefe finna bust your BM open, then I toss her out
I'm a baller now, I just dogged her out
Four-pack of Slapwoods, finna fog the house
You get bossed around, the plug gon' toss some pounds
Touched down with a half a ticket, we the talk of town
Put the fifty to his grill, look who talkin' now
Switchy on a Desert Eagle, bullets hawk him down
In the kitchen, I keep seein' babies like an ultrasound
Cuddy in the kitchen catchin' rabies, his dog barkin' loud
He need a tetanus shot
Switchin' beaches, was Miami, I'm on Venice now
I snuck the blick in with the bitches, they ain't pat 'em down
That **** jeff, ain't got a ten, he need a cap and gown
It's like three months in, I made a fifty off the bets
I'm like three hoes in and I done heard a thousand threats
To get you put up in the grave, it won't take a thousand steps
This an ARP, 12 see me, I won't break a sweat
I heard when 12 jumped down, he drew a sketch
We goin' back and forth on the dog price, we playin' fetch
Beat the white 'til it's navy blue and red like the Nets
Ridin' with that stick like a witch, I threw a hex
To get them killers outta bed, all it take is a text
Bitch, it's Dog $hit Militia, to me, you a pest
All I gotta do is pour an eight of green to get some rest
.300 Blackout ARP, watch me give this bitch a test
I'm goin' out in fashion in this Chrome Heart vest
I'm puttin' a hundred thousand large in a Louis treasure chest
The birds migratin', they say they just left the nest
It's Monday, but I'm still finna come Sunday's best
I'ma get her naked 'cause my chain wet just like a beach
Finna head out west just like LeBron, I'm tryna feel the heat
I'm a ShittyBoy, man, I be shittin', drippin' like a leak
They gon' try to take you out the game before you reach your peak
No cap, that never could be me
Got my Glocky on me, I'ma ball until I D-I-E
I'm around some bosses, you can meet us in the VIP
It ain't really comp, 'cause who can really fuck with TrDee?
Written by: BabyTron, Fordio, J1Hunnit, MJPAID, Prince Jefe, ScrumbleMan, StanWill, TrDee
