(Antt did the track)

'Rari sittin' on twenty-fours, ya dig?
Had to cut the bitch, she couldn't play her role, ya dig?
A couple million plus I spent on clothes, ya dig?
Bitch actin' like she scared, I bought her a Ghost, ya dig? (Boo)
These lame-ass rappers tryna see if I fucked they bitch, you know I did
Got three-hundred pounds in the spot
And they all disappeared, you know where they went (what?)
Ain't worried about a ho tellin' her best friend I'm cheap, she know I'm rich (yeah)
Got four-five hoes on a jet and it's only me, you know I'm lit (yeah)
I'm a hot head, but my heart cold, that bitch just won't unthaw
I done ran it up, I ain't goin' broke, that shit ain't in my thoughts
I'm a real playa, if you play it wrong, you can't keep the shit that I bought
Got a white girl like Mary Jane, trap swingin' like Peter Parker
Can't blame him, that's my son, he just doin' the shit I taught him
On Rodeo, in a Maybach, they think that that's Rick Ross
Wanna fuck me, she a broke bitch, sorry boo, that's a big, "Hell nah"
Wanna sneak diss, it's cool though, but ya ass better not get caught (fah-fah-fah-fah-fah)

Got .50s, .30s, switches every pole, ya dig?
Brand new money, blue notes fallin' out my clothes, ya dig?
This my business, can't nobody know, ya dig? (Nah)
Nigga shakin' my hand but he really wanna cut my throat, ya dig? (Shh)
These lame ass niggas get dropped from left and right, you know I did it (alright)
When she put her hair in a bun and grab my belt, I'ma know it's real (ooh)
I'm heavy handed pourin' it, all my cups be over spilled
I done popped me a Akorn pint, this shit so red like roadkill

That lil' hunnid thou', I made that shit five times, no deally (fuck)
He rap about opps but ain't put them hoes down, he silly (haha)
I'ma shop when I land, I ain't gotta take no bags, each city (yeah)
I'm fuckin' his bitch and talkin' about it in my raps, he gon' kill me
I'm a walkin' check, got six-fixty on each leg, ya dig? (Yeah)
Dollar Faygo, now it's worth a band, ya dig? (Ooh)
Amiri flannel blue, I'm dressed like Craig, ya dig? (Ooh)
Just like Simon, bitch, better do what I said, ya dig?
I go to the club with it on me, I seen niggas die tryna run to the whip (yeah)
My life is a movie like "Paid in Full," my uncles, they hate that I'm rich (yeah)
I might go to hell, I'll ice skate with the devil before I put faith in a bitch
I fucked her so good, she ain't ask for the money, I was posed to be payin' her rent
I'm givin' the blicks to the shorties for free, but they only get paid for a hit
I'm capital P, how I'm peelin' these pints and paintin' these pops like Prince (yeah)
It come out the wrapper, it shine and glisten, it look like the flake of a fish
The way I been kickin' my pimpin', a regular nigga, he can't even dig
I done dressed up, all my cups look like Suge Knight, you know they red
My Glock so switched, it went from Kris to Caitlyn, you know it's trans
Who that flew by in the 'Rari, same color as Trae Young? You know that's twin
I done fucked this ho for a year
I ain't go on no dates, she know we friends (fah-fah-fah-fah-fah-fah)

Got .50s, .30s, switches every pole, ya dig?
Brand new money, blue notes fallin' out my clothes, ya dig?
This my business, can't nobody know, ya dig?
Nigga shakin' my hand but he really wanna cut my throat, ya dig?
These lame-ass niggas get dropped from left and right, you know I did it (nah)
When she put her hair in a bun and grab my belt, I'ma know it's real
I'm heavy handed pourin' it, all my cups be over spilled
I done popped me a Akorn pint, this shit so red like roadkill

I rather chase that check, that bag, stash 9 M's over one-point-five
Damn right, I got a dime, they don't see me
I was probably wearin' Tru's before Chief Keef
Drop a five in the Sprite, bitch, pink, pink (yeah)
If I knock a bitch down, hear, "Ding, ding"
Time to go, Chrome Hearts vest four thousand (yeah)
What about the coat? Turnt young nigga, I know
Never surrender, niggas askin' why I tote, bet if I up, I blow
Fucked they bitch, I know, hunnid Gs flat for a show, nigga
I got the 'Cat, the Track', the Urus, the 'Bach, I bet if I call she fuck (hello?)
I got T-Rex the bike, TRX the truck, that shit like two hunnid somethin' plus
I'm the turntest nigga you know from the city, ya dig?
Bitch, if we catch him, you know we gon' kill him, on my kids
This Big 4 shit so for real, I still spin just for the thrill
But where you at? I'm on his heels, pull up on me, I'm at Liv (Miami)

Copyright: Warner Chappell Music, Inc.
Writer(s): Anthony Mathis, Christopher James Gholson, Dion Marquise Hayes, Dominique Jones, Jay W. Jenkins, Karon Vantrees, Robert Hill