(Yeah, who run it)

Freak bitch talkin' 'bout some Casamigos

You see killjae, you see Nikko

It's that .45, go on and sing just like CeeLo

Boy, that G3 made that boy dance like DLOW

They say killjae don't want blow, he be low

DND fuckin' up, told that bitch, "Leave me 'lone"

And them **** not hard, just like that on the phone

I be outside, me and my Glock all alone

He be capped out, not on that block he be on

I'm in New York, call me killjae Corleone

We got 300 Blackout, go through a bone

If I go broke, kick door, go through your home, yeah

If I go broke, yeah, hit that backdoor, **** just know what I'm on

I'm as slime as it get, on my mom, it get cold

I need Moncler coat if I walk through the rain

Why the fuck would I shed 'bout that bitch? That shit old

Dumbass think he fuckin' with me, he insane

Lil' bro throwed off, think he Henchmob (Gang)

When I get rich, cop a new stick, fuck a tank, yeah

Glock 26, Glock 43X, I'ma duel wield 'em (Real life, roadrunner, pop out in real life)

He got sticks, he don't know what to do with 'em

You locked in with a rat, you Dolittle

**** try run up on me, is you kiddin'?

5.56 pull up, he hit 'em

When twin say “let’s hoop”, we don't dribble

​killjae pop out, caught that boy shiverin'

Pole tucked, don't got my Glock, he get livid