Lyrics
[Intro]
(Don't call my phone unless you trying to buy a whole brick, ****)
[Verse 1]
I've been in this shit, boy, you know I ain't no roody-poo
I'm just get my dick sucked, it ain't right, she fufu
I just throw my sets up, 24-1-4
Tell that **** steppin' to me, hit him with the .44
Diamonds from the North Pole, I see you looking, bro
You in the trap with the crack, don't know how to cook it, though
You spend your bands and your sack on some hooker hoes
You post your guns and your set and your cookie dough
[Verse 2]
Watch out, ****, gang pullin' up
I heard you dropped a couple songs, they ain't good enough
I see you're hangin' with them goofies, they ain't hood enough
I see you're trickin' on that bitch, boy, I wouldn't have
Ay, I got a switchblade on the stick, I'll cut you up
Pussy actin' like you rough, you ain't rough enough
Shorty, I'm about my business, where the button up?
Cops pulled up on the set, ain't no cuffin' us
Pulled up in a truck, what the fuck is up?
Ten millies, man, I urge you, ****, fuck with us
I got pull like guitar, brass orchestra
Like I owe the dope something, it got me coughin' up
Fuckin' with them hoes, you gon' get set up (Ay)
We got fifty pipes (Ay), we brought out the best ones
It's pigs in your farm, pussy, Alabama (Ay)
Baby Glock bit you like a fuckin' bed bug
I've been running shit, bitch, you see my leg numb
Your homie just died, boy, keep your head up
I remember when I pulled my first foreign car on Lamron
I remember selling dope on Dipset, Cam'ron
Don't do no deals around him, he might tell something
Ay, lil' bro, get low, I'm finna nail something
Trunk his ass, kidnap him, full nelson
Lookin' for me, bitch? I'm grindin' on a rail, son
I got big .45 in my belt, son
Thirty-four size jeans, big Amiris
Remember goin' downtown, steal out Akira
Now the Hellcat sittin' outside and it's gettin' rusty
Remember making BM buy me H&M
Hold the pussy upside down, now I'm shakin' him
Cops got him in that room and they breakin' him
Ambulance took too long, it's too late for him
Baby, say I'm the dog, get that awful lot
And I'm sippin' cough syrup, yeah, awful lot
I just pulled up, Ferrari, yeah, off the lot
Pussy boy, I am rich, your talk is not
[Verse 3]
That's why I don't talk that much
Unless you know me (Pussy) and got something to talk about (Pussy)
If I don't know you, I ain't got nothing to say to you, really
But goddamn it, what's up? (Go)
On foenem, **** (Go, ay)
If you ever see me, you gon' run up on me and goddamn get a handshake or something, you wanna hold something, goddamn, I got you
I ain't one of these lame-ass ****, man
GBE baby, Sosa baby, ****, Sit Gang, ****, Get it Gang, ****
[Verse 4]
Chain cost a brick, Arm & Hammer, pot and pan
Trying not to go to jail, ****, not again
Guy a total copy and paste, get him out there, man
I call my FN, Waka Flocka, Glock is Waka's mans
Lookin' back at old shit, remember we was off the Xans
Had a baby-ass closet, now I'm walkin' in
Ben Frank', Grant, Jackson been my longest friends
Seent you outside the club, is you gon' get in?
Heard your fuckin' last album, boy, you need to stop
You didn't even do it right, it didn't need to drop
Man, I'm tired of buyin' jewelry, man, I need some stock
Wake up, take naps and go to sleep with guap
I could never tell my granny I was fixin' too
I just rolled down on Bally like, "What you finsta do?"
Ho follow me on her real page and finsta too
I just got fresh as fuck for an Insta' shoot
Pulled up, black and white truck, moo, moo, moo
We ain't never had a big homie, fuck your rules
Hold on, you swear I know you, ****, fuck is you?
My pops from the other side, ****, fuck him too
Yeah, I fuck with him a little, ****, what's it to you?
We just bought some bumper cars, trying to bump it to you
I just got some green tips and I bought 'em for you
Heard you slidin' to the show, bitch, we brought 'em for you
Written by: Hunter Brown, Keith Cozart, Manshalo Ward, Unknown Writer