Ah
Ayy, ayy, ayy, ayy, ah (DJ on the beat so it's a banger)

I ain't goin' back and forth with niggas 'less it's on the track
Me and broski twinnin', winnin', rappin', still'll twist your cap (grrah)
Gave my mama all that time, she did ten and gave that back
Now your kids rich, Mar Mar blew eighty stacks and made that back (ayy)

My nigga Tee the sergeant (ayy), neighborhood locksmith (ayy)
Uberin' with Ks, five stars, get a top lift
If I gotta stand tall (what), I'ma drop shit
Westside, thirty on the Wesson, call it Glocksmith (boom)

We come from that cloth that they don't make no more (they don't)
Text your bitch like, "Pop out," she text back you made her stay at home (this ho-ass)
Baby Grizz and Mama Grizzley back, they let them gangsters home (they here)
Ridin' in that SRT Demon, but them angels close, I ain't alone

Say the clip full, brodie (rrah), we gon' spray that, though
Opps know ain't shit they can do, they ain't gon' save that, though (that's it)
Eat me in a Rolls-Royce, I just might make a ho
Told that lil' bitch to bring her friends, I don't date alone

Ayy, you strapped when your niggas with you (what), I got that Drac' alone
Told the DJ he a rat, when we in here don't play that song (sure did)
All my niggas up in bank, imagine what I make alone
Come and drop a nigga whole village, this shit Game of Thrones (grrah)

Pull up in them Lamb' trucks trippin', got like eight poles
Drums in this bitch, full crowd, it's a Drac' show
Say them boys ride, .308, turn his brakes on
Let my OG out, can't wait to put my nigga Blaze on
Ask bro before I got locked, I was twenty up (no cap, nigga)
Ayy, now it's eight hunnid and twenty plus
All shops, thirty pokin', givin' twenty up
Go get me a water, bitch, I'm rollin' like a 20 Blood (ayy)

At the Waldorf eatin' on the roof, I bring your ho up here (come here)
On the jet I'm wearin' red like stop, but she gon' go up here (she goin')
All my shooters smart, but if you play, they gon' act slow up here (what?)
Call my label up like, "Bring that bag, get baby bro in there" (baby Grizz)
Damn, I wish you was here to see this shit we did, pops (R.I.P.)
I don't wanna drive the Lamb' today, bring me that Benz block (ayy, bro, pull up)
You can look up all our paperwork, solid as a rock (ten toes)
And my pistols like Snoop, six-four, switches on them Glocks (brr)

I ain't goin' back and forth with niggas 'less it's on the track
Me and broski twinnin', winnin', rappin', still'll twist your cap
Gave my mama all that time, she did ten and gave that back
Now your kids rich, Mar Mar blew eighty stacks and made that back

DJ on the beat so it's a banger

Copyright: Exploration Group LLC
Writer(s): Terry Wallace