STROLLIN

Strollin through the city with my top on ill

If he lookin' at my chain

That boy get killed

Twenty-five on a Pinky ring

Grippin' on the wheel

Bad bitch

And I got a silhouette on the grill

Laid down a few bricks and I built me a block Can't catch me ridin' around with no chop

It's funny how somebody said I don't be in the hood anymore

Somebody gotta tell me how your mans got shot

I whip the crack and she bag it up

She make it clap when she back it up

I can't fuck with that bitch it ain't fat enough Big racks I get money and stack it up

I bake the pies and take orders the trap house like dominos I got the cheese

My shootas in all black mask on gats drawn We look like some creeps

State lines

LV hit me on FaceTime

I keep that shit on my waistline

I gotta take your life way before you take mine

I got the

Sauce

I drip a finesse and I move like a boss

Niggas been lost

When I hop up the Cullinan

Dripped out and my wrist game on frost

Never stress bout a bitch if your pockets ain't right

I can get you gone by tonight

Let's go band for band little nigga whatever you back out I'ma do it twice

Strollin through the city with my top on ill

If he lookin' at my chain

That boy get killed

Twenty-five on a Pinky ring

Grippin' on the wheel

Bad bitch

And I got a silhouette on the grill

Laid down a few bricks and I built me a block Can't catch me ridin' around with no chop

It's funny how somebody said I don't be in the hood anymore

Somebody gotta tell me how your mans got shot

I whip the crack and she bag it up

She make it clap when she back it up

I can't fuck with that bitch it ain't fat enough Big racks I get money and stack it up

I bake the pies and take orders the trap house like dominos I got the cheese

My shootas in all black mask on gats drawn We look like some creeps