It's the God, one, two, three, four, five, boop-boop-boop-boop-boop
God, one, two, three, four, five, boop-boop-boop-boop-boop (yeah, yeah, ayy)

My uncle Ricky fuckin' crazy, he fuckin' scary
His personality is, well, overbearin'
The type of uncle that got high then start over-sharin'
Except when it come to my problems, then he over-carin'
He's over listenin', he only care about his own problems, his own business
My uncle Ricky don't wash his clothes and fold bitches
I don't wanna open the door for this nigga
But this nigga know I'm here for him, lights on in the kitchen
"Ayy, nephew, take me down the street, so I can meet this ho
Nephew, she got EBT, re-fill and some mo'
Nephew, she can get this syrup drank and some dro
Nephew, put this in the back of your trunk and go"
Drivin' with the devil, it's like time got slow
He promised me a bag then my mind got stuck
He was high, I was tired, so my mind got fucked
He said, "Nephew, ayy, nephew, do this for unc'"

It's the God, one, two, three, four, five, boop-boop-boop-boop-boop (yeah)
God, one, two, three, four, five, boop-boop-boop-boop-boop (I hang with uncle Ricky)

He gon' bend this corner real quick, "Nephew, we slidin'," "Where we goin'?"
We gon' pick this lil' bitch up, that owe me five", "Five dollars?"
"Five hundred, and a nigga like me need all that chicken"
So we pulled up behind, "She good, why she cryin'?" "Bitch be trippin'"
Okay, pull up to the place though, where the ATM for fever
And played "Got 5 On It," I'm five degrees from a fever
It's ninety-five degrees in the car 'cause I broke my heater
And I'm nervous he got a gun, hot breath and heavy breathin'
So it's humid in the whip, and there's humans in the whip
Plus that black bag from earlier, what's it doin' in the whip?
Back to the heat, and then turns certain things into steam
I got aromas of ammonia, what the fuck do that mean?
He said, "Nephew, you want this TEC-9? You gotta get it fixed
Nephew, I been sellin' cream and doin' hella shit
Nephew, the bitch from the store, her babydaddy want some fun
Go get that gun, face him, show him you ain't no punk"

It's the God, one, two, three, four, five, boop-boop-boop-boop-boop
God, one, two, three, four, five, boop-boop-boop-boop-boop

Copyright: EMPIRE PUBLISHING
Writer(s): Akeem Hayes, Ramon Ibanga Jr.