Pop Shit

I'm spendin' ten racks, how I started my day

These **** love to hate

We get to pullin' on blocks, **** jump in the gate

Coulda fucked first night, got the face

I can see the racks on Casey, this shit outrageous

Pockets like a phone book, got pages

I don't fuck with these ****, they callin' me racist

Fuck **** play, we erase 'em, gang

Reach for my chain, don't do that

We on these fuck **** top like some hair in a do-rag

Dropped fifteen hundred on a shoe bag

Fifty percent GD, other fifty throwin' blue rags

Gotta be worth it, I'm spendin' my cash on it

Bankroll green like grass on it

Hop in a bitch, skirt off, this bitch got no tag on it

No Jimmy Neutron, I'ma blast, homie, ay

This shit here ain't nowhere else

I got this shit off the top shelf, ay

Cookin' this shit like Top Chef

I can not go on stage if I can't bring my Glock there

Trap house jumpin' out the gym, we got hops there

Pulled up to make a play, it was cops there, ay

Spent five times one day, tried to pop some

And I'm doing all my shows, give a fuck if it's the opps there

Ay, I'ma spazz out, crash out

In the streets like the verses, I ain't goin' for three bands now

I'ma cash chow, I'ma cash out

He tried to keep up with money, but lil' buddy, he done ran out

We had spinned in a Benz, we done ran down

He wan' shoot a little nine, but this mack-ninety stand out

Walked in the room had her ass out

I'm countin' dineros, I'm handlin' my business, I'm a man now

Roll up the opps and we smoke 'em

I got my dick in her mouth, in her throat, I'ma choke her

I can barely breathe, thick, gold choker

We got foreigns and old schools, Dre pull up on a floater

Phone ringin', think I need a Motorola

Cinco a migo, I do this shit here for the culture

I'ma shoot and he gon' shoot too

I ain't do no talkin', we just get to blowin' like a flute

Bitch, I'm a country boy, stop all the sense and that

No back in, I ain't coming out, ay

Hit it from the back and I pull her hair

I get to pull up and shoot, swear to god, don't know who to spare

Ice on my neck like a cooler there

.308 bullets so big, swear to god I can shoot a bear

Say you got racks, who you foolin' there?

Truckload pull up and treat the scene like a shoot and count

I get to floatin' and rollin' in motion

They like, "lil' ****, stop that"

I keep the strap, swear to god, they know I'ma pop that

I don't beef with lil' boys, where your pops at?

He done went broke, now his baby mama all on my chop set

She givin' long neck like a ostrich

I stay flyer than the two lil' dudes in the cockpit

No 4th of July, I'ma pop shit