Section 8 just straight cooked this motherfucker up

Uh

Uh, uh

Uh, uh

Uh, uh, aye, Louis V to my last trip, bitch, stick to the transcript

Ho, you wasn't invited, tell me why the fuck your ass here

You would think I was bangin' OTF, only the fam' here

Oh, you got that lo' to the last ****? Okay, go blam him

Bitch can't come back over to the penthouse, she left her lash here

**** late as fuck, ran up seven M's last year

Twenty **** up, fuckin' good, she had a bad year

Them **** be cappin', bitch, you know we got a bag here

Throw the strip club up, swing them ones like it's confetti

Fucked her with a rubber, but the lil' bitch say she pregnant

Uh, it's an all-white, but the outside look spaghetti

Fucked her all night, slow and fast like DJ Fetti

A bitch asked me for five hundred, I cut her off 'cause she petty

Bitch, I give a band and up, I give you five K if you ready

Pimpin' ain't easy, I'm only goin', bitch, if I let it

Uh, I'm a real heater, I sling that iron, I sling machetes

Uh, my bitches all organic, I cut 'em off if they use edit

Young turnt ****, I want a bag, I don't want credit

Uh, that money gon' buy a brick, but you can't but that shit with credit

I was talkin' cash shit, but if you up, then I'ma bet it

You fuck all of her broads, shit, you broke, ****, I said it

I'm bust up than a bitch, come check my wrist, flaw settin'

I bought a bitch a ring, but we ain't ready for no weddin'

I know these **** snake, I can see these **** sheddin'

Uh, uh, aye, Louis V to my last trip, bitch, stick to the transcript

Ho, you wasn't invited, tell me why the fuck your ass here

You would think I was bangin' OTF, only the fam' here

Oh, you got that lo' to the last ****? Okay, go blam him

Bitch can't come back over to the penthouse, she left her lash here

**** late as fuck, ran up seven M's last year

Twenty **** up, fuckin' good, she had a bad year

Them **** be cappin', bitch, you know we got a bag here

Uh, uh, bitch, you know we got the bag here

Uh, uh, bitch, you know we got that cash

Rip off paper tag, switched again, then smash

We ain't pickin' faces, whoop a bitch and a **** ass

Bruises on my hand 'cause I been trappin' glass bags

Your door swingin' hard as fuck, I got some gas bags

You lookin' for me, just post, "Prince of Bubba," with the hashtag

We don't do no rap beef, drop the lo', we spank his ass

Uh, uh, aye, Louis V to my last trip, bitch, stick to the transcript

Ho, you wasn't invited, tell me why the fuck your ass here

You would think I was bangin' OTF, only the fam' here

Oh, you got that lo' to the last ****? Okay, go blam him

Bitch can't come back over to the penthouse, she left her lash here

**** late as fuck, ran up seven M's last year

Twenty **** up, fuckin' good, she had a bad year

Them **** be cappin', bitch, you know we got a bag here