dot my I’s cross my T’s before I make a play

give a fuck what a bitch or a **** say

get the bag flip a bag on the daily

Ching Ching goes the money **** pay me

G.E.N double I ima big dog

skinny **** but I walk around with draws

I’m sittin low, with the suicide doe(door)

in that green 64, Lincoln continental ay

I cut my grass everyday to see the snakes bro

no baby mamma so I get to keep all my Paso’s

I stayed ten toes down now watch me lift off

genii banging in his ear gott'em pissed off

these **** swear they solid but they origami

**** stay the fuck from round me

you **** crash test dummy’s

look return of the mummies

chickens with no heads

you a hoe for the feds

boy you a sped

**** try to overlook me like a side show

now I’m hittin free throw’s with my eye closed

throwin dimes like I’m trey with the ice bro

only shootin for the stars,

30 from the logo

ppl say Atlanta fell off **** where?

not as far as we can hear or we can see

we givin y’all as much light as you can bear

even tho Atlanta sound yo whole discography

boi we so tired of hearing you dumb **** rap

yea bitch the south still got something to say

we here for all the smoke yea we here to play

if you ain’t on our side the get the fuck out our way

private jets check, dripped out check check, private island that’s next, with ya bitch yes yes,

do a couple stretches pop some bands for the flex

head back to the studio and on you **** neck

we rich ****, with broke phones

tryin to keep the balance, we staying strong

stop playin with us ‘fore we turn you to a song

send some a.t.l.ians to put that thang rite to yo dome

dot my I’s cross my T’s before I make a play

give a fuck what a bitch or a **** say

get the bag flip a bag on the daily

Ching Ching goes the money **** pay me