(Tay Keith, fuck these niggas up)
Yeah
(DJ Meech, lil' bitch)
Ayy, Leo, don't stop me, this off top, part four
Alright, alright, we got it like ninety bars

Ayy, used to be the fed, now the paparazzi snappin'
Ayy, everybody smoking on somebody, boy, quit cappin'
Ayy, somebody tell Tay Keith he a fool, this bitch slappin'
Ask my last bitch, what happened?
Shoutout my last bitch, what's happenin'?
Real nigga, never bitter, what's pillow talk, I never seen a pillow
Bitch told me Richard Mille or bye-bye, I'ma miss her
FN hold baby missiles, it go through your bone gristle
High security, still tote the pistol
I don't rely on nan' nigga
Let's have some fun with this shit (I am)
I'ma slow down the flow (okay)
You know this CM10, this "Shoot Off" number four ("Shoot Off" number four)
You see that Phantom and that Cullinan and that Wraith and the Ghost
I fuck your bitch on a plane, double back for the throat
I'm investing in crypto
I be textin' in street code
Got more watches than jewelers (than jewelers)
Want my bitches in plurals
That's more than one a time
If she ain't with it, it's fine
She know I'm busy as fuck, that's my favorite line (shoot off)
When the beat breakdown, make me feel like I'm breakin' down them pounds
And my sister Tash' house, in the kitchen with that newspaper on the ground (keep going)
When them bricks came in, me and Nero had Ziplocs in them Ziplocs
Standin' over that stove, making that pot go do the beatbox (go, go)
Joe Biden with the big rocks, fifty pointers in the Rollie
Trackhawk and a Redeye, none of my shit stolen
Shirt off in that SL, might go luxury, uh-huh
Know I keep it on me so don't fuck with me, uh-huh
Ayy, I used to ride a Ford now I'm in the Forbes
I used to step on woodgrain now it's marble floors
I miss the Honda Accord, used to have a bitch in it with the bricks in it
Rental trucks tinted with the sticks in it, yeah, I been spinnin' (twenty-four left)
Yeah, I been winnin', big Gotti been gettin' it
No feelings, drug dealin', turned that shit to a business
Solo on all my mission, want no witness or codefendants
Never put no hoes in the business
No cap, no kiddin', I take this shit to the graveyard
I got a million in that Goyard
I made a half a million, ask my grandma, yeah, I trap, boomin'
I'm eatin' noodles serving consumers
Locked in with the streets, never move off rumors
Facts only
This that Cocaine Muzik, yeah, I'm right back on it (almost there)
Gave my nigga a hundred K, turned his back on me
Ain't no love in these streets, ain't no loyalty
How opps beefing with me but they avoiding me
(Alright, just make sure I get my credit)

Copyright: Warner Chappell Music, Inc.
Writer(s): Brytavious Chambers, Leo Goff, Mario Mims