Yeah, bitch I'm in that Benz truck
Bad bitch, that'd be rude if you ain't let my friends fuck
Shmoney dancin' on you bitches told her, "We can dance, bruh"
50 on my uh (I got Brizzy on the beat, he go crazy) oh, yeah, ayy
50 in my pocket, teacher told me pull my pants up
Shorty on my line, she on that bullshit, I can't answer
She talkin' 'bout she pregnant, man, she tryna fet me jammed up
If she not tellin' lies, you already knowin', what's the plan, bruh?
That bitch shit, yellow diamonds on me on some pee shit
I'm just tryin' kick it with you baby, you and me shit
Blow a bag at Neiman's on a weekend, bitch, I'm geekin'
I'ma freak it, take it back up to the telly, Michael Jackson
I'ma beat it, post it up and then delete it
Choppa do a nigga dirty, got him shakin', got him leakin'
Yeah, she mad as hell, sendin' paragraphs, I didn't read it
So I blocked her up on everything, I couldn't be defeated, pull up in that AMG
Yo, why the fuck do I keep whisperin'?
Black seats in a black car, hell yeah, that's what I'm whippin' in
I see the goddamn stars, there's no roof or ceilin' in
They be like, "Goddamn Chris, how the fuck do you be killin' it?"
And I'm richer than a bitch while yo' ass workin'
And that choppa turned him to a stripper, got his ass twerkin'
Bitch, I'm not the same, nigga, that's a past person
Damn, I done broke up with my bitch on her birthday, I'm a bad person
Ain't no fun if my homies can't have none
Ain't no fun if my homies can't have none
Ain't no fun if my homies can't have none
Ain't no fun if my homies can't have none
Try to test me or my niggas, we gon' have to grab guns
Damn, rockin' H. Lorenzo bitch, you rockin' PacSun (ooh)
Kylie Jenner lookin' bitch, she got her ass done
If she can't hit my phone, mm, fuck it, man this rap done
Sike, that's not it, you know me and all my niggas we be on that bullshit
Got her nigga comin' home, she put me in the closet
Bitch, I'm really goin' up, I'm feelin' like a rocket makin' up a profit
Who is really killin' shit that's as old as me?
Lil' bitch, I'm way too lit, I'm in that drive-thru and they notice me
Performin' on the stage and all the bitches throw they bras and all they clothes at me
They ask me how I do it, I just do what I'm supposed to be
Got a .40 and a MAC and a chop' in a black truck
I'm throwin' 50 bands while I'm in school I fuck my class up
Around this time this year man, I was broke, I got my racks up
Runnin' laps around the bank, I might just fuck the track up
Hit 'em with a, "Uh, damn, I just fucked the track up"
"Fuck it bruh, you ran that shit, it wasn't even that bad, bruh"
Ending of the song, goddamn it dawg, I'm kinda mad, bruh
Right before I leave, I gotta tell y'all get that bag, bruh
Ain't no fun if my homies can't have none
Ain't no fun if my homies can't have none
Ain't no fun if my homies can't have none
Ain't no fun if my homies can't have none