No N-B-A

It’s in out -NA

What, yeah, Yung Jr

What, yeah, huh, hold on, what, yeah, spit

I’m in the trap, we smokin’ loud, we got the blicks, it’s in our hand (It’s in out hand)

It’s never tucked inside our jeans, got **** actin’ like their fans (Actin’ like they fans)

These **** act like they ain’t broke, but they ain’t never touched a band (But they ain’t never touched a band)

And if you touch my chain, you gon’ get popped, just like a soda can (Just like a soda can)

These voices talkin’ to me, on a drill, i’m crashing out (Ahh)

I never freeze, I come through, better duck, you know i’m uppin’ fye (Better duck)

This chop spray like febreze, I heard that diss, lil boy you finna’ die (Febreze)

I’m screamin’ out, “free twin,” gon’ spend a bag, just wait til he get out (What, yeah, huh, on god)

These **** fearin’ me, i pull up, hop out, know they beat they feet

I got the stick, left that boy doa, cause’ he couldn’t keep it street (Couldn’t keep it street)

I got a thick bitch, set you up, that boy always think with his meat (Think with his meat)

You want some clout, put me up in your song, now you up on a tee (You on a tee)

Huh, you know i’m snappin’ on these beats, you know I ride (I ride)

You said you street, but you had started cryin’, when it was time to slide (Like why you cryin’)

You got the blick, they down the road, if you don’t shoot, you not my kind (You not my kind)

if you can’t hop out, facin’ shit, get out the whip, don’t waste my time (like what he said)

I’m in the trap, we smokin’ loud, we got the blicks, it’s in our hand (It’s in our hand)

It’s never tucked inside our jeans, got **** actin’ like their fans (Actin’ like their fans)

These **** act like they ain’t broke, but they ain’t never touched a band (Never touched a band)

And if you touch my chain, you gon’ get popped, just like a soda can (Just like a soda can)

Like yea, that choppa kickin’, that boy flippin’, on defense i’m blitzin’

**** tried to spin, we hawked him down, we hit targets no missin’

Think with his dick, he slippin’, try to run, hit in his back, he limpin’

When 12 behind, give me the wheel, we get away, this shit get wicked

These **** hidin’, like “where they at?” i’m on they block, i’m clutchin’ glock (I’m on they block, i’m clutchin’ glock)

Boy, I don’t play about my chain, reach for my neck you gon’ get popped (Fllah)

I catch that **** slippin’, on his block, he gon’ end up on fox (Fllah)

Bome down the hood, boy, we don’t play, you try to slide, you gon’ get boxed (Fllah)

You flashin’ pipe up on the gram, you must be stupid, boy, i’ll take it (You stupid)

It’s time to slide, put on my mask, I walk him down just like i’m jason (I’m jason)

He flashin’ pipe, out of a car, he act like that i’m not gon’ flame it

He mad as hell, I fucked his bitch, she bad as hell, how can you blame me

I’m in the trap, we smokin’ loud, we got the blicks, it’s in our hand (We got the blicks, it’s in our hand)

It’s never tucked inside our jeans, got **** actin’ like their fans (Actin’ like their fans)

These **** act like they ain’t broke, but they ain’t never touched a band (Never touched a band)

And if you touch my chain, you gon’ get popped, just like a soda can (Just like a soda can, fllow, bitch)