Letras
Oh yeah, oh yeah, oh yeah, oh yeah, oh yeah
Niggas keep talking bout our swag they ain't having
Run thru these designer stores like a Addict
Yo bitch ain't never seen bands in the Attic
Pussy lil boy keep on talking, Not @'ing
We can tell that you mad cause these Racks keep on Adding
Fully F.N and that bitch automatic
Sleep on designer Fabric
Got Flights that I'm catching
That big choppa catch him
Got no Racks you lacking
They know I'm a young boss, that get you knocked off boss
Outside your momma crib, pouring out Act boy
Young Nigga I treat the Benz like a new toy
Yo shit ain't new boy
That really ain't you boy
We treat your hoe like a blunt when it's schoolboy
Tell the truth bout all that shit that you talk bout
You Niggas just got shit that you can't even flex bout
I'm working hard tryna buy mom a new house
And we got strikers that run in to your house
You ain't even worth all the Act that we pour out
I don't even know how you act when the hoes around
Bullets got Aim we don't like when they Run round
AR-15 but it's not from the Gun-Round
You could get Gunned down
Suppress on the Stick we gon kill you with no sound
Your shooters gon go down
But I guess that's the ones that just live in your Raps
I been said I'm the one, you can tell I don't Bap
I been said we most trendy and it's still a Fact
Used to take momma money and don't give it back
Now I add more hunnids when I give it back