Featured In

Credits

PERFORMING ARTISTS
G Herbo
G Herbo
Vocals
COMPOSITION & LYRICS
Herbert R Wright
Herbert R Wright
Songwriter
PRODUCTION & ENGINEERING
Daniel Ivy
Daniel Ivy
Producer

Lyrics

[Verse 1]
I'm a renegade, every day rep EBK like CMG
I'm a CEO and a chief, all my lil' young **** got the streets
I been tryna stay discreet, they'll put a **** six feet for G's
Ain't no missin' with that switch, just run up on his ass and squeeze
Magic trick 'cause we made burgundy out fifty white tees
Put a black tee on at night 'cause it be brightening my VVs
And I don't believe in hype, if you one youngin' turnt like me
I was fresh up off a mission, seeing hypes with my CDs
[Verse 2]
But these young **** not righteous, tighten up, please
How you fuckin' with G? Show me a million plus at least
Cost me five G's just to button up my fleece
Spiral, how I bleed, fuck the auntie and the niece
Pullin' up in fleets, five whips, no lease
Everybody eat, all my shooters elite
Who keepin' up with me? Fuck off a half a ticket a week
I been spittin like Jay and Ye, go from beat to another beat
[Verse 3]
Countin' up in my fuckin' sleep, it's what I do
I just tell the truth and get my dick sucked in the booth
Been lit since a jit, I stay poppin' shit like usual
I'm just tryna get rich, bae, I don't wanna lose you
I'm not Ace or Mitch, bae, Rico touch my back door, I'ma shoot
Fuck off racks at Saks, so my closet look like I loot
Money bring envy, so my vengeance was a coup
I told Glo she good in the Raq, I was drunk in Memphis like Mac Snoop
But I'm lil' Herbie, it's big Herbie G, hoes slurpin' me like soup
My lil' baby hot as mercury, her pussy taste like fruit
I just slay a thot, okay, can't stay, I'm playa like a flute
Bring a friend or two, might take her state to state just 'cause she new
When I land I'm in BP, I be darin' a **** too
Black McLaren, it's GT, Forgiato on my shoes
Ain't nobody above me, big boss, I make the rules
Better hope we don't bend your street
Swing this car though and make the news
How you hate? I'm twenty-eight, I blew through money like a fool
100 million before thirty, but I might be thirty-two
All the youngings do what I do, they try and stick to me like glue
Try and pull up in that bent, I got the print blue, yeah
Written by: Herbert R Wright
instagramSharePathic_arrow_out