Done got on ass for **** dissing, but I won't get into that

And I do not consider that shit beef, it hit the internet

Bail out with blick, we blow him, drench him, we gon' leave his innings wet

Think he bout to get flee, we finna take his spending check

Tryna slide down in a stolo, we'll leave that engine wrecked

So much bread inside my pockets, it could make a pigeon fat

Yeah, he got bodies, but he told, man, that ****'s a killer rat

And I like touchin' cheese, but I can never feel a rat

**** broker than a bitch, man, he ain't never feel a rack

And yeah, you pretty from the front, but I want you from the back

Bro, put a switch on the back of his Glock, no time for loafin', moving tact

163 across the neck, me and bro plannin' for our tat

Graaa-graaa, that be the gat

And all these **** actin' gangsta, in real life, they really cat

I seen his brains on the dashboard, like, holy fuck, I yelled out shiat

Red threw the oop like Kobe, had to slam it down like Shaq

Had to put the socks up on my hands, cause I ain't had no gloves

Had powder on my body, washed up in the tub

All these **** out here talkin' pape, but they can't show a dub

Wash off them demons, I'm tryna escape, I think I need a scrub

Get a Kia, break it open, then go and scoop your bro

Before you do that, gotta be on point, call the opps, get a lo

Said he was up the street, I said, we gon' be there in four

Unlock the door, get out on feet, and then you up the score

And yeah, bro got a ACP, but probably gon' fail his ACT

You can play with them lil' ****, but you better not play with me

He play with me, he D.I.E. and I can merch it on Lil D

Won't speak on opps, he tried to flee

He crashed out and hit the tree