I'm a no shoestring wearin' nigga, just straps
Nine out of ten of these hoes holdin' back
How the fuck you did six years with four flat?
'Course Hot Boy and Will hang together, they both rats
Pull up in the hood, hot beams on the Wagon (skrrt)
My niggas call me Rollie, all my bitches call me Patek
Ho quit sayin' you could of had me, how?
Shout out Lil' Two, I'm the one who blew him down
Rest in peace, drop shit for extra cheese (ayy)
This here for Neff and Reese
Ayy, I don't 'member bettin' fast, hard times will never last
Told y'all I quit stumpin', I'm on my seventh slab
Somethin' 'bout this drug money make these bitches get off
Let me know, you can't see me, niggas, I'll take the tint off
We just left Soul Stage, blew about a ten ball
Free my nigga Woo, or should I call him Mr. Finna
Yeah, Gotti want a show but shit, I'm finna have a spin-off
Take a nigga ho, you never told me that you loved her
Fifty for a show, no back and forth, I'm sellin' drugs first

Hold me down, never know what tomorrow bring
Help me out, if I eat, we all eat
Ma, look at your baby
Still findin' 30s for the eighteen, yeah
I might come through in a hard top, we draggin'
I still save all of my car lots, I'm damaged

From hustlin' against the ball lot, I still live in the dog house
I'm known for goin' on Mars route, like throw it up
Hate on who? I'm goin' up
Ain't gotta flash, I show enough
Been in my bag, nigga, get in yours
Quarter mill' in cash, ain't shit in yours
Married for now, I'll get divorced, ayy
This bitch been actin' like she love me
Came from nothin', dawg, and we was thuggin'
How you gon' judge them?
Nigga ran off on my last and let me hurt him
Askin' doggy, would he rather be rappin' or sellin' 30s?
Youngest nigga but the first one in traffic behind the murders
In that 'Cat, I'm probably swervin', they troopers make me nervous
Young dog still into murders, throw that shit back like a jersey
Put a Patek on a baddie, a Patek on a
I put a Patek on a baddie

Hold me down, never know what tomorrow bring
Help me out, if I eat, we all eat
Ma, look at your baby
Still findin' thirties for the eighteen, yeah
I might come through in a hard top, we draggin'
I still save all of my car lots, I'm damaged

Free my nigga Woo
Free my nigga Woo

Copyright: Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC, Warner Chappell Music, Inc.
Writer(s): Dion Hayes