Twenty-one years young, call me Bagchaser Can
And RB chases them too, maybe we're related
In the Cayenne in Paris, I'm listening to Mac Miller
On the streets in my neighborhood, coke and crack dealers
My brothers are disturbed, hey, they're crazy
In court I say I can't remember
Hey, my life is a movie and they're watching it
Yes, I buy things I can't use
Hundred tens, hundred twenties, he sells that (tick, tick')
And I get it from the stash, because you need that
Dude, everything I say, yes, I run that
And I know that my area is watching out for me

Twenty in my jeans, hundred sold
I have to go back to my plug, I have to get out of here again
I have twenty in the jeans, hundred sold
I have to go back to my plug, I have to get out of here again

Take me to your loft, I smoke dry on the couch
And RB comes over and brings out three kinds
Only have love for the gang, my fans
My brothers, my fam, we make bands (Cash)
And in winter to Miami
Looking for Ta7os, but can't find my phone (never)
Standing in the park with a hood like Kenny
Hundred grams, Tempelhofer Damm, meet him at PENNY
That's my bro, that's my twin
Sometimes crisis, but wallah, it's not bad
Fly on vacation and I give him my SIM
And since we were fifteen, we've been making profit

Twenty in my jeans, hundred sold
I have to go back to my plug, I have to get out of here again
I have twenty in the jeans, hundred sold
I have to go back to my plug, I have to get out of here again

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