And I made this motherfuckin' beat

'Nado Kid, um, files, files

Let's go

Gang ('Nado Kid, gang)

Sorry, I beg your pardon, start at the part where you thought I needed you (Mhm)

Love is war, I got the scars so you could see the proof (Mhm)

I don't know what they told you but I'll show if you need me to (Mhm)

I'ma kill every **** 'cross me regardless of what would Jesus do (Mhm)

Let's go

But we rich as hell and we got bricks for sale (Sell)

Oh, you got a problem?

No problem, I'll up the stick and blam (Blatt, blatt, blatt)

We way in Carolina, this shit different here ('Lina, here)

I still walk with my chopstick, I don't even know the people here (Let's go, let's go)

Thousand dollar shades (Check)

Who that is in that Maybach?

Who would've knew that we'd be rich as hell? Not even me, shit (Who would've knew?)

I ran my dreams down, I ain't even chase them shits (I ain't even score)

Somebody better tell this ho who I am, I don't pay for sex (Let's go, let's go)

We rich as hell and we got bricks for sale (Hell, bricks for sale)

Oh, you got a problem? (Problem)

No problem, I'll up the stick and blam (Blatt, blatt, blatt)

Oh, you sent from hell? (Hell)

Obviously they ain't get the mail (Mail)

Play say, "The pack short," I told him obviously he should get the scale (I told him, "Pop it")

Louis V shades (Thousand dollars)

I be dressin' (Thousand dollars)

Spin, you came a long way from the motherfuckin' projects

Where we goin'? Long, long way from home, Carolina

What in the hell we doin'? (Yeah)

I'm lookin' for somethin', I can't find it (Yeah)

We rich as hell and we got bricks for sale (Yeah)

Somebody better tell him, this a Maybach and this bitch V12 (Yeah, yeah)

Say you sent from hell? (Yeah)

Obviously they didn't get the mail (Obviously, yeah)

Lil' Play say, "The pack short (Yeah)," I told him obviously he should get a scale (Yeah, pop it)

LV shades (Thousand dollars, we at Carolina, right now)

I be dressin' (Thousand dollars)

Spin, you came a long way from the motherfuckin' projects (You heard me? Me and my **** feel like we got two fuckin')

Where the hell you goin'?

Long, long way from home, Carolina (We in area for Portland, bitch)

What in the hell you doin'? (I made this)

I'm lookin' for somethin' and I can't find it (Fuck AR)

We rich as hell

And we got bricks for sale

Somebody better tell him this a Maybach and this bitch V12 (You know?)

Somebody better tell him, I don't pay for sex and this shit too— (I got them young boys to work a murder for hire)

Somebody better tell him, I don't even pay for—