Whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa (30, you a motherfuckin' fool, nigga)

I left outta school without momma's permission
They wantin' me dead, they be hoping and wishin'
I'm stealing your bags when I'm put in position
I'm dressed in all white like a chef in the kitchen

Lil Sada Boat baby, I rock then I work
All these Ks but I still wouldn't have joined the navy
I remember that shoot out in my red Benz had to duck low
The bullet almost grazed me
That was then but now I'm the type of nigga to aim so right
When I shoot I ain't gotta dump
Twelve o'clock, got a whip looking for the trunk
And you can't fake the funk
Pistol attached to a nigga like breast lumps
Light on the black pump
Pumpin' on tank three
Three in the morning, I'm half sleep

And nigga, I'm half woke
Still aware enough to tell your bitch I'm an asshole
I'm worried 'bout cash flow, income, and getting a bag though
I'm through the back door with my main bitch
Can't get caught with my side ho
I got Bape on, Baby Milo, bring them bricks on the high low
This bitch only 5'4" but her throat feel like it's seven feet deep
She suckin' dick with a blindfold, made me disappear like my weed
I'm gon' win, bitch it's guaranteed, left my momma house at seventeen
Met my first opp on Evergreen, he got dropped with guns he never seen
Had murder on my mind then, free YNW Melly
I don't know why you hatin' on me
Give me a reason to leave the Drac' on E
Got his bitch cooking steak for me
In the 'Rarri running from the state police
Chopper hold a hunnit to say the least
Lil nigga 'bout to die so say your piece
I know I gotta stay lowkey, my granny say she pray for me
She know I keep a K on me, I'm waiting on a nigga to play with me
Bitch, I'm a lover and a fighter, keep two sticks on me like striker
Custom vests I ain't no biker, she could stay the night if I invite her

488, yeah, the spider, red and yellow like I'm Roddy Piper
Give a damn if shawty got a nigga
If the bitch is goin' I'ma pipe her
Chopper 'round my back like 8 numbers
8 numbers like I was at Rikers
Pistol snug like it's in a diaper
Bitch with me got Balmain like a biker
Bitch, what I want is hard to decipher
And aside from most these niggas liars
Austin Powers, Groovy Michael Myers
Kill 'em off like Chris in Stomp the Yard
This lil bitch right here, she got me hard
She just want the last four to my card
Drop her off right there on Boulevard
Fucked her once and left the baby scarred

She was wearing Fendi leotards
I been cooking, whipping Leonard
Dicaprio, this white boy a star
Trappin' out the house and then the car
I just served your spouse up at the bar
And you told like the mouse you are
Watch your mouth, you snitching from afar
Makes no sense, you niggas work with law

Make no sense, you niggas need a dress
Left the nest, the team is still correct
Collect the bag, the bag I will collect
I'm the richer man, I won't contest
I'm the better rapper, I confess
Fucked her, now she setting up her desk
Fucked her, now she organize my clothes
Niggas mad, I'm sending lower blows
Niggas mad, I'm fuckin' better hoes
I'm a G and sucking every toe
But I flip the pussy like some dough
Freckles on her face like dominos

(30, you a motherfuckin' fool, nigga)

Copyright: Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC, Universal Music Publishing Group, Warner Chappell Music, Inc.
Writer(s): Casada Sorrell, Miles McCollum, Samuel Gloade