Live Nation gave me Ms to do my dougie on you hoes
Keep yo comments to yoself bitch I made this for my bros

I start writing once it dropped I aint even let it load
You take hitboy you take Mali you add me and you got gold

I really do this shit foreal boy don't ask me what I sold
I'm like Wade to KP they hit me to break the code

Every time I hear a beat I hit 7 on the dice
Wanna do a song with me why you playin with yo life

Flow water but it's room temp I aint got no ice
Made a hunnit proud 2 pay and I even set no price

I wake up and live my life
Smoke my weed and make some hits
sell out everywhere I go could a give fuck about yo list

They know the voice when you best
Close yo eyes and take a guess
I be trying not to flex
But I shot this with my left

Nigga stop fucking playing
cll this time been takin less
Hitboy play a beat and ima eat til nothing left

Bitch I grew up near the crest
College park to be exact
Niggas say they from where I'm from
We like nigga where you at

Hit Lc for some days
I might come back with a plaque
cin't gotta ask me I'm from
You hear the beat
The west is back


Ran up an M
I need another one
I do what I want
Yeah I'm my mothers son
Bitch I'm really him
I ain't the other one
Hit boy made a blap
We got another one

Ran up an M
I need another one
I do what I want
Yeah I'm my mothers son
Bitch I'm really him
I ain't the other one
Hit boy made a blap
We got another one

We got another one

We got another one

We got another one

We got another one

We got another one
Shipment coming cross in a hundred drums
Chuck a hundred bands
Like a hundred pounds of trash while they bouncing ass
I'm smacking in these lil' n****s face
F**k a gram I take an eighth to face
I'm sitting on mountains of the cake blowing cake
Staking up my stakes have you laid up in a lake
Got a chip on my shoulder
Banana chips in my holster
Gone off banana kush blowing like a roadster
Look both ways ‘fore you cross me
Washington and Fair Oaks I'm a dangerous cross street
Play with something safe, don't play with your fate
Big Hit and LaRussell outchea playing with cake
I been playing these pianos, real black sopranos
Pops black Rambo poppin bands it's mando

Ran up an M
I need another one
I do what I want
Yeah I'm my mothers son
Bitch I'm really him
I ain't the other one
Hit boy made a blap
We got another one

Ran up an M
I need another one
I do what I want
Yeah I'm my mothers son
Bitch I'm really him
I ain't the other one
Hit boy made a blap
We got another one

We got another one

We got another one

We got another one

We got another one