Virtual (Blue Balenciagas)

Yeah, yeah, yeah

Young **** world

Young **** way, yeah

We gon' pull up with them sticks and hop out with them choppers

Walking out the ten in blue Balenciagas

I caught an opp, now I got blood on blue Balenciagas

Up that forty, let that pistol sing a melody

Fuck all of that talking, we can go to war

Leave your brain marinating on the boulevard

I got something that'll put you out your misery

Seven point six two, five point five six's, two-two-three

With that K, broad day, we hop out and spray

Young **** world, young **** way until my dying day

You ain't 'bout that action, boy, let's not pretend

Caught you lackin' after school and shot at all your friends

It go like one, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight, nine, ten

Unload the clip, reload the clip, and then you spin again

And if they out when you come back, then bitch, you spin again

Congratulations, I just taught you how to spin a bend

We gon' pull up with them sticks and hop out with them choppers

Walking out the ten in blue Balenciagas

I caught an opp, now I got blood on blue Balenciagas

Up that forty, let that pistol sing a melody

Fuck all of that talking, we can go to war

Leave your brain marinating on the boulevard

I got something that'll put you out your misery

Seven point six two, five point five six's, two-two-three

Two-two-three, AR-15's

Carbon-9's, they all on me

Fuck with me, you get murked

It ain't shit to put a pussy **** on a shirt

Fuck all that talking, we all 'bout that action

We pull up with pistols, you know that we blasting

These **** ain't really on it, they pussy

I swear to God all these **** dramatic

Hold up, actually, I wanna fuck her

Pussy run up, we gon' put him on a t-shirt

With it, yeah, with it

Pull up on me with a TEC, huh

Run up on me, you get wet, ****

Fuck with me, that's your regret

I got some **** who really be with it

You **** pussy, you pussy or friendly

You **** pussy, you don't want no action

All of my **** will turn you to past tense

We got Glocks with hundred rounds, huh

Catch an opp, kill an opp, lay him down

Fuck with us, you get murked, facts, ****

Big B's, double-O twenty-ten-nine, this brrat, ****

We gon' pull up with them sticks and hop out with them choppers

Walking out the ten in blue Balenciagas

I caught an opp, now I got blood on blue Balenciagas

Up that forty, let that pistol sing a melody

Fuck all of that talking, we can go to war

Leave your brain marinating on the boulevard

I got something that'll put you out your misery

Seven point six two, five point five six's, two-two-three

Yeah, Melly baby

And I'm back, yeah, yeah-eah

I'm on a whole 'nother fuckin' wave bro

You can't even swim with this shit I'm spittin', hah

(Young **** world baby, young **** world baby)

(Young **** ways, yeah, yeah)

I'm with them sharks, fuck ****, I'm for real, hey