Текст песни
God, I feel like a million dollars
I can rap in this shit
Turn me up, Ray
They calimin' yo' tag (hey, what's good, Trou?)
In the headphones, turn me up
Turn me up in the headphones
I got her head gone
Chopper, Kut The Fan On, yeah
Look, brand new Kut The Fan On chain (yeah), this bitch cost 200K (200K)
How you flex a hundred bands? You place a order at the bank
D.A. tryna legislate, I'm still screamin', "Fuck the state"
Don't ask me is I'm happy I'm home, stupid, what you think?
Uh, and this money, put my blues on, drippy
Uh, they could lock me up for sure, but can't kill me
Industry miss me, favorite rapper snitchin'
Runnin' to the booth 'cause his lips sing, alright
They thought I would never jump, I showed 'em I could double Dutch
I'ma fuck her over every time, she got a bubble butt
Ayy, she go French tip, I tip her with her toes out
Ayy, let's get it crackin', my B.M., I got a throw somethin', uh
Too clumsy, I be one without a drop, uh
Hellcats in the graveyard, wake up all the opps
Ayy, told you 'bout my life, uh, how I made it out
Ayy, this the life of Hot, stay real, but still got niggas locked up
Inmates, they better hear my voice (better hear my voice)
Told my son, "I ever go this long without you, it's by force"
Nigga, pain in my eyes, I never sheded tears of joy
Nigga, gang hear my cry they'll be loadin' up for war
Look, brand new Kut The Fan On chain (yeah), this bitch cost 200K (200K)
How you flex a hundred bands? You place a order at the bank
D.A. tryna legislate, I'm still screamin', "Fuck the state"
Don't ask me is I'm happy I'm home, stupid, what you think?
Uh, and this money, put my blues on, drippy
Uh, they could lock me up for sure, but can't kill me
Industry miss me, favorite rapper snitchin'
Runnin' to the booth 'cause his lips sing, alright
Jail talk, Devil want my soul, nigga, Hell talk
Hell talk, shorted all the bros, oh, hell nah
Twenty-three and one, you get an hour out that cell, dog