Yeah
Bitch I smell like gas
Drifting on the clouds
Made a real life bad
I don't need the clout
I don't want your money
Yeah
I don't want your dollars
I just wanna bleed shit
Blood on my designer

Shoot you in your tattoos
Your baby-mama ran through
Pass her to my guys and we gon' train her like it's "Choo-Choo"
My bitch bad
I fuck her like the last time I'll ever see her
Got a big strap in my backpack
I'm stacking racks like Justin Bieber
We pull up the show we blow the sound out they speakers

Yeah
We walk 'em down then stomp 'em out
Got blood on my beaters
That boy that said he know us
He is not my brother, not my dude
Rockstar status start a riot at the mall
They always talking bout killing
But ion' care no not at all
They ask me can I put them on
Man get up out my phone
You better let the fans in
Man they knocking down the door
Walked in they trippin' talking 'bout
"Where you get them Prada boots?"
Walked in they trippin' talking 'bout
"Damn bruh your stock's through the roof"
Yeah, it's 3am it's demon time
I don't ever sleep I be piping up

I'm piping up, I'm piping up, I'm piping up, I'm piping up
Bitch I'm piping up
I ain't ever sleep when I'm piping up
Bitch I'm piping up

Say it
Shoot you in your tattoos
Your baby-mama ran through
Pass her to my guys and we gon' train her like it's "Choo-Choo"
My bitch bad
I fuck her like the last time I'll ever see her
Got a big strap in my backpack
I'm stacking racks like Justin Bieber
We pull up the show we blow the sound out they speakers