Uh, sleezy
Oh my God, Ronny

Mula! Fuck the fame, I can't switch
Pussy niggas ain't this
They ain't gang, gang shit
Red beam, can't miss
Adios, gotta go
Knock your soul, out your clothes
Whippin' O's, out the bowl
I get dough, I control
Pull up in the vein, switch
Flexin' with your main bitch
Still sellin' 'caine bricks
Talking sign language
I sell dope, lot of blow
I'm Pablo, El Chapo
Tippie toe and Pada'd up
Dolce and Gabbana, hoe
Woah, woah, woah, woah
Ride four deep like carpool
Bitch on my 'Gram like it's art school
Big Tommy-gun like cartoon
Shoot niggas down with the harpoon
Niggas comin' home from state bids
Where the bricks at? Gotta take the kids
Where the bricks at? We gon' break your ribs

In the Lamborghini, that's the getaway
Dual exhaust, the smoke be puffin' in your face
Niggas talk, they oh, so frontin', okay
Niggas claim, oh so you banging? You fake (Okay, okay, okay)

Pull up on a oppa, pass the chopper, turn them inside out (Okay)
Pull up on the house in a Aston, put it in your mouth
See me in the streets, money stickin' to my cleats
Got heaters, you want to beef, got reapers, you wanna leap
Ayy, it's Z, Turbo Porsche cream
Stretch limousine, got the Glock in my jeans
Bitch, I serve fiends, got the rocks in my sleeves
Bitch, I flip beans, cops outside, then leave

In the Lamborghini, that's the getaway
Dual exhaust, the smoke be puffin' in your face
Niggas talk, they oh, so frontin', okay
Niggas claim, oh so you banging? You fake (Okay, okay, okay)