Told that nigga he can eat the taco with mufuckin', aye
I told that nigga he can eat the taco with one hand, not fuckin' two hands
And I, okay, hold up, yeah, hold up, hey hey, hold up
Yeah yeah yeah yeah yeah yeah, yeah yeah yeah yeah

East side Crippin', 700 livin'
Pull up on a nigga, pop 'em like a penicillin
Shoot 'em while he chillin', take a nigga children
I don't give a fuck, bitch I'm tryna get a million
Bitch I need them commas, bitch I'm on the come-up
Your bitch all I need, she put her tongue up
Dick up in her tonsils
I be kicking shit like a punter
It's 11:30, she's a launcher
I'm a stunner
I got your bitch wet like my jewelry
Everywhere I go, don't need security
A nigga grew a beard, that's maturity
Now everywhere I go, all these bitch niggas fear me
Bitch it ain't no hoe in me, aye it's "on go" with me
I just sold a bow of weed in Memphis, Tennessee
No janitor, I got the keys, no ocean, I'm the sea
And I be ballin', ain't no coaching me
You stallin', you ain't close to me
Musical chairs, set your ass down
I felt like I retired when I gave that boy that last round
Say you wanna jack? Well I'm finna beat your ass now
Treat you like a blunt, watch how quick I get him passed down
Walked in the room, I got your bitch with her pants down
I shot that nigga, now he six feet in some sand now
I keep a fan, guess I'm somewhere in the stands now
I don't think these pussy niggas stand a chance now, really
30 in my car, make 'em pop a wheelie
Bitch I keep that chocolate like I'm Wonka, Willie
Bananas in my pocket, it's a jungle
He tried to rob me but I had a chopper, silly
Yeah, yeah, he's silly
Nigga tried to pop me, nigga and I wheelie'd
Tayvo in this bitch and he acting real silly
CV in this bitch and you know it's grippy, grippy, grippy
Don't say it's trippy
.40 on my hippy, nigga you'll get drippy
Aye, you can get it bitch, I don't give a fuck, hoe
Pull up with that .30 and smoke your ass like some like some crack though
We don't smoke none of, none of that though
Get yo, get yo bitch ass smacked though
And I always keep a fucking snack hoe
And my pockets big big, yeah that's a fat hoe
Yeah, that's a fat hoe
And I'm in this bitch leaning like I'm Fat Joe
Yeah, yeah and my heart slow
I can't love a bitch 'cause you know my heart cold
Bitch, Jeepers Creepers scarecrow
And a nigga get stomped in some shell toes
Yeah, yeah I don't rock no Velcro
Yeah, yeah I don't rock no Velcro, bitch

Copyright: BMG Rights Management, Kobalt Music Publishing Ltd., Universal Music Publishing Group, Warner Chappell Music, Inc.
Writer(s): Benjmain Dyer Diehl, James Baker, Marco Antonio Jr. Rodriguez Diaz