Oh my God
You niggas can't be out here embarrassing your team like that
I had 'em askin' who's that
Now every room packed
But theres no more room in the group chat
You makin' yourself look bad, know what I'm sayin'
You makin everybody else around you look bad
Na' mean
For two years, I had 'em askin' who's that
Now every room packed
But theres no more room in the group chat
Move back, too many rats bound to get stuck on the glue trap
Might as well shoot yourself in the foot, Plax
Swear to God
Next time I see a muh fucka wearin' my jersey the wrong way
I'ma slap the shit out him, for real
At least die with honor, kna'm sayin
Might as well shoot yourself in the foot, Plax
Uh, you was never good where I'm good at
I never been foreign with it
You want to play the game
You got to put some quarters in it
Maybe this grey brim Yankee is my only fitted
High school, I remember almost started crippin'
Fell out without a few when I didn't
No reason to switch my jersey mid-season
You supposed goats used to hold the torch
But now you look more like sheep skin
Y'all want to win a game
I'm trying to take the chip
Trying to win a war
Cut a nigga off if he only trying to win awards
No space for cap in my roster
If it's a race of rats then I'm walking
Clipped day ones to move on
Bury the hatchet or bury the body
You wasn't made from the same pack you been claiming around you
You put your name on your homie paper
That's plagiarizing
Watch where you aiming papi
For two years, I had 'em askin' who's that
Now every room packed
But theres no more room in the group chat
Move back, too many rats bound to get stuck on the glue trap
Might as well shoot yourself in the foot, Plax
I had 'em askin' who's that
Now every room packed
But theres no more room in the group chat
Move back, too many rats bound to get stuck on the glue trap
Might as well shoot yourself in the foot, Plax
Way too many people in here
Nah nah, get the fuck outta here
Let's go
Tell momma to write Bustelo on my brick, uh
Greasy sideburns and fingertips on my bitch, uh
Tourist ask me where I'm from every chance they get
Would you go to The Garden and ask Spike the same shit
The same hands that plan to colonize
Shot up churches and did Columbine
The same hands that gentrifying all the caridads
The same hands that turned the hood into a Amistad
This shit is not for y'all
Moreno before I'm green skin
Soldier before cobra
I never sold front row tickets to my own culture
Ain't making bread off soda
No money off pop
I give the guap to the culture
And the rest go to Ock
So we cut ties with a few of y'all
That we was no longer suited for
Less is more
We move more efficient when the crew is small
At this point
Feel privileged if we get you involved
Community is getting the right kind of unit installed
Aye, we used to do it for the OG's
But, now you do it for the IG
You niggas know where to find me
That's on my life