Текст пісні
Who's gonna own this business, huh
Backstabbing fucks that don't respect where they come from
After all the blood we put into it
You'll do what you gotta do with me, but you're gonna be in a war
Whether you like it or not
Let me finish what I started, but with enough juice this time to make it stick
I kill them all
Uh, Ride with that chopstick in the truck
You know shorty nem, be tweaked out, lil' bro, hop out I heat you up
Get them G-locks in the club, he talk crazy, then got smoke, we put his bitch ass in the blunt
Chop don't give the opps, no clout, won't say that nigga name not once
My lil' white boy work for Chrysler, he do dog, don't get no fucks
He pay double when he come back, I always be giving him fronts
Driz get on that off that nene, trying to slide when he get drunk
I got shot, nigga laughing, but his brother ain't getting up
T-Roy level five in prison, my lil' bro in there get booked
No, I can't put down that cup
I can't stay off the street, you know that street shit turn me up
All the bitch ride on our lap, the fuck it's gonna do in the trunk
He kept cropping me off pictures, nigga got turnt in the runs
2020, probably spent 400,000 word to Trump
Them niggas ain't even walk up, that static nigga's punk
Niggas tried to shoot my head, but hit my leg, he must've been drunk
Nigga tried to shoot from the corner, nigga's dumb
You know you see a opp, you supposed to get up on him
I can't write that from the dead
I know this ain't what they wanted
At the nighttime, I see red like a nigga crib getting hunted
Hit they block up, drop a hundred, I can't never leave the city
Fuck, I look like Andre Trump
Been having wicked thoughts, I dread I killed my cousin
I've been trying to find a van for 30 minutes, can't get nothing
This shit blowed out
We cooked so much dope up in this bitch, we burnt the stove out
Gold teeth, find me a little bitch house to roll out
Nigga, soon as we get finished with that bag, it's time to roll out
Call of Duty, AR, change the load out
Little nigga, I'm always posted in my hood, we got some paws out
Ridin' around that bitch, all these trucks, bitch, this ain't Robo
Every day been in the studio, I'm in that mode now
Catch him on that court, catch him on the freeway
Ain't no running, we slide in the sport
Nigga, get smoked like a porter
I heard he been outside lacking, nigga, get caught on that porch
Chop you took that lil' shit like it wasn't nothing, yeah, of course
Might as well just go no hook on there, it's on, don't need no course
We pull up, load all y'all for it
But really though, we be getting money stuff
This bitch, I'll send a hundred grams up north
You know all our opps get torched
FTO, that's on my momma, that one nigga always put up dope
We can't never find them niggas, look, we trying to hide
Long live Mizzy, A.R. look like he got titties
Got two fifties on the bottom, I got the offshoot for them commas
That 5'7 for the problems, she mad, pull up, bro, I got him
It's on they head, it don't even matter about who shot him
I thought bro was really gagging, switching up, don't know about it