Virgil 2

(Pyro made it)

I'm makin' racks, not friends

We turn ya boy to a strand

FN five-seven, both hands

Louis shirt cost me a grand

I play the block like Bam

I sold more food than a stand

I'm in the sprinter, just me and the brodies

I'm bouta shoot this shit up, hold my Rollie

I made this bitch spread her legs like a goalie

Glock .30 look like a hoagie, nigga

We get the drop, we gon' smoke 'em

Bitch, I'm the G.O.A.T. mixed with snake

I turn a four to a eight, yeah

Bitch, I'm back like Mase

Bring his head back, leave his face

And I just been chasin' the guap, uh

You niggas chasin' the twat

I'm not a Christian but I get you crossed

I blew a check, I just fucked up the mall

Virgil L.V. jacket, I need a small

Nigga, you staff, I'm the boss

I drop this bag, get you offed

Look at my wrist, Jack Frost

My money long as a sloth

You want the show, send the racks in advance

I can't get you, then we clappin' ya man

I can fit three hoes in back of the Benz

I can fit three killers back of the van

I counted 50K flat, did my dance

.223's burn through ya skin

She like, "What's that in ya jacket?"

This a G-lock and it hold like December

I touch more paper than printers

I up this burner, he turn to a sprinter

Look at my wrist, this bitch feel like the winter

I'm gettin' guap, I ain't worried 'bout bitches

Ran that shit up, LA Fitness

We get the drop then we spinnin'

I'm bouta slide, I ain't go in a minute

Play with the zoo then you dumb

I ran up like fifty a month

Brand new car move like a horse

We drop more guns than the force

I make one call then you torched

We why the city got morgues

I ran through like twenty, was bored

And this bitch hang on my hip like a sword