(Marc Boomin, this you?)

When that pack touch down, tax like Uncle Sam
When we shooting
We ain't putting niggas on cam
I don't fuck with these niggas, no
You not my mans i got that V up on my back
'cause I ain't got no friends
When that pack touch down, tax like Uncle Sam
When we shooting
We ain't putting niggas on cam
I don't fuck with these niggas, no
You ain't my mans
I got that V up on my back
'cause I ain't got no friends

Yeah, 'cause I ain't got no friends
I'm riding with my niggas
Till the world ends
Nigga sneak dissing? Put that barrel
To his fucking head
I'm smoking weed, getting head
Tryna go to bed
My nigga tryna slide right now
My nigga off the meds
I tried to tell my lil' nigga chill
They sent him to the feds
My lil' cousin playing with the chop
He almost hurt himsеlf
If nobody got my back then I got myself
I was really brokе, now I'm
I got the on my back, tryna catch myself
Hold on, let me catch myself
Treat you one of you niggas like my
Kid and beat you with a belt
You out here tryna fuck lil' bitches
You gon' go to jail
I'm out of town, I sent it to myself, bro
Catch the mail we screaming when we see 12
It don't take much, lil' nigga
Just be yourself me and my lil' brother
Nigga, ain't nobody make me, I made myself
I heard some niggas on yo head
You better fake yo death
This 'Wood hitting hard as hell
I can't catch my breath

When that pack touch down, tax like Uncle Sam
When we shooting
We ain't putting niggas on cam
I don't fuck with these niggas, no
You ain't my mans
I got that V up on my back
'cause I ain't got no friends
When that pack touch down, tax like Uncle Sam
When we shooting
We ain't putting niggas on cam
I don't fuck with these niggas, no
You ain't my mans
I got that V up on my back
'cause I ain't got no friends

Zaza, take a puff, I'm on top now
La La, ball like 'Melo in his prime now
Nuggets snotty than a bitch, boy
Yelling slime now
Free my baby out that lil' bitch
He knocking time down
Yo shit ticking like a time bomb
Jacuzzi vibes, bitch
I'm sipping on fine wine now
Went and got an AR with the flash
You can't hide now
Thinking that we fucking Taliban
How we ride 'round
We'll hit you with a K, yeah
Jayson Tatum, fade away, hit the J, yeah
They say I don't be in the city, bitch
I stay here dog shit on me in the club
Grab some rain gear
Huh, or you gon' get wet
That vest? Nah, that ain't it
You gon' get stretched
We gon' spin around, right, right
We don't hit left
Turtle Pie, this shit loud as hell, boy
Yo shit deaf yeah, yeah
Run it up, bitch, I had to use my legs, yeah
Drop that lil' bitch then I'm
Gone, I get checks, yeah
YSR and the ShittyBoyz, we up next, yeah