(Cxb know he go crazy)
(Ayo Bleu)
(It's Malik on the track)
Uh, yeah

Uh, glaciers on my wrist, glaciers on my neck
Uh, I might spend some paper on your bitch, that'll get her wet
Uh, I might drop some paper on that nigga, fuck it, get him whacked
Uh, V8 motor all of my vehicles, we gon' get away
Ayy, iced out my bitch Audemars, you know it's lights out when I catch that boy
Two-seater with a bad bitch like Rihanna, no A$AP Rocky
Two C's on your bag, you can get anythin' that you want
Truth be, yeah, I'm mad, mad rich, so don't treat me like the average ones

Ayy, I really been off the porch way before you had a gun
I didn't really have a choice, now it's a blessin', I'm the chosen one
I'm really the voice of all them youngins totin' stolen guns
Shoutout to them boys who jump out blast and put a hole in one
And don't forget I'm only twenty-one, yeah, twenty-one, and plus I drive a twenty-one
I was seventeen fuckin' bitches that was twenty-one
Since the plug number nineteen, fuck it, let him go for twenty-one
Promethazine and codeine got me floatin' like an astronaut
Just like a punter, kick the door in, fuck a duck, he went and air 'em out
Vice versa, whoadie dropped a bag, like right back at you, whack his bro this time
Draw the line inside the parking lot, I'm only parkin' what your parking lot
You know we love them brand-new black Air Forces
Them boys is askin' me if I trust that squad
Stack my blue faces now I'm moonwalkin' in Calabasas
Private flight, new faces, still to this day richer than all my opps
Ring around the rosie with that stick, fuck it, spin they block
Oh, ride 'round with that heavy metal in a foreign car
The only thing could beat the devil is the triple cross
Bentley Jeep, let's ride down Melrose to get some Ferragamo
It be the same one that yell bros that'll tell on you
I know locked behind the cell doors you'll tell somethin' (uh, yeah)

Uh, glaciers on my wrist, glaciers on my neck
Uh, I might spend some paper on your bitch, that'll get her wet
Uh, I might drop some paper on that nigga, fuck it, get him whacked
Uh, V8 motor all of my vehicles, we gon' get away
Ayy, iced out my bitch Audemars, you know it's lights out when I catch that boy
Two-seater with a bad bitch like Rihanna, no A$AP Rocky
Two C's on your bag, you can get anythin' that you want
Truth be, yeah, I'm mad, mad rich, so don't treat me like the average ones

Copyright: Kobalt Music Publishing Ltd., Songtrust Ave, Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC
Writer(s): Braylen Rembert, Jacoby Cherry, Malik Bynoe-Fisher, Tyquian Bowman