Fugazi

Two lane to South Memphis and shit. Yeah, y'all know the score. DJ BK, get ready to drop this shit like this, man. Y'all check this dope shit out

Yeah, she tryna show me somethin, but I'm tryna fuck no friendzone

I'm so overworked, I sip that cup and I skip the intro

Oxy, perky high, I got so fucked up, can't feel benzos

LaFerrari, a lot of customs, got that shit from Enzo

Walk with me for a minute, uh. Pass that gun for a minute, uh

Bitch so bad, I might just overlook all of her blemishes, huh

Dirty iced tea in my fridge, I think my soul in Texas, huh

I've been slurrin' all my words, yeah, I can't even finish them

My bitch know it, hectic

She play chess, no checkers

This gon' end in seconds

Grab it once, no seconds

I got dough, no veggie

My bills blue like Benji

This some gas, no Reggie

My bitch way too sexy

Talk your shit, I'm bouta leave a trophy at your door

The off of molly, zombies, I got uzi's like killing floor

He ain't gone fuck shawty when I got it at his dome

Those fugazi rocks, I got the real ones on my lobes

Yeah

Runnin with four guns, sippin that horchata in that Ihop

Winter camo on my body could you even spot

Hold my jewelery box, it flood to the top like I live in Icebox

Watch em jump for pints of activists like I'm playing hopscotch