Aye, yeah
What you talking 'bout?
I been in my bag
Fuck you talking 'bout rapping for
You finna get stabbed
Fucking around with that capping moe
You really that mad, that's on Jesus, the baby one
Racks manifest. If I need it, I'm making one
Blue in the face, I'ma bleed it and take me one
Fucking with Billy, I'll feed you to gators
I'm with the shits and I'm 'bout it
All your diamonds real cloudy
Got a lap dance from my VVS
These princess cuts is real crowded
I say Paul Wall is my dad
My whole house sitting sideways
I ran off with that bag
I been paranoid for like nine days
Fuck with me and my posse bitch
I'm crushing weed while I'm talking shit
Donkey Kong with a big bong
Gucci down to my moccasins
Bitch boy I ain't tripping
Trip on my pimping
I'm off in the back
These pockets deep I'ma walk with a rack
Fangs on my teeth like I'm talking to bats
I been a monster
Halloween special my roster
My ganja green, hoe, I'm Blanka
Gripping the toy that's a Tonka
I'm a god, bruh
Like fuck 'em
Why why why why you talking 'bout me
I got these chemicals in my brain
And I got gold all on my teeth
Let's keep it street (What, what?)
What you need? (What, what?)
I probably got it (What, what?)
But it ain't on me (What, what?)
Let me see (What, what?)
Let's keep it G (What, what?)
We masked up but we ain't looking like we skiing, no no
I need a pack
I need a pack
I need a pack
I need a pack
I need a pack
I need a pack
I need a pack
I need a pack
I need a pack
I need a pack
I need a pack
I need a pack
I need a pack
I need a pack
I need a pack
I need a pack
Bitch
What, what?
What, what?
What, what?
What, what?
What, what?
What, what?
What, what?
What, what?