Was at the cookout with my other, other, other man, mm
That done got me to some motherfucking trouble man, uh
Texas boy, the way I love it, love it, love it, man, mm
All these new niggas, they stealin' but it don't hit the same, uh
Feel it in your veins, uh, nigga, I love my gang, mm
That's why I fuck my gang, mm, why I fuck my gang, uh
Ain't no play today, these ain't just 808s, uh
This a murder case, uh, this a murder case, uh
Ain't no pushin' me, uh-uh, I shake your head, it deceased, uh
Ayy, don't hit on me, uh-uh, if that boy ain't seen me
He lucky that nigga still breathin', I don't know what y'all seein'
Take my shirt off, run off, then I swipe that nigga's semen

Uh, done being humble so I had to flex
Way that I rack up my bands make 'em sweat
40 acres and a mule on my neck
Better to talk to me with some respect
Heard they ain't make it, I couldn't have guessed
I'll cut the ram, I'll connect to your vest
And I'm chiefing the keef of a pound of the best
Doin' it right, took a couple attempts
Had to keep climbin' they catch the ascent
Made it look casual 'cause of my desk
Studio gallery, yeah, where I rest
Hold on, exactly what do you suggest?
Where I'm aiming, ain't no use for a vest
When I'm on ten, I get clean
But the scene I leave is grotesque
It's a finesse, yes

Way she throwin' it so fast, you'd think she need some Tommy John
Surgery, nurse gon' pass me over, just gimme that scalpel please
Diggin' through this shit like it was '06, polka jeans
Green Lamborghin' look like Bulbasaur, and his dad
Catch 'em all, bubblegum ain't allowed
Sittin' up on that terrace, drinking red wine with canteloupe
Thousand-dollar phone, what the hell can answer for?
I can't see the haters man, uh, Harry Potter cloak
Let this shit rock, we come in like a landslide
They don't call me up, they hit the cell, don't hit the landline
Feet up sippin' hibiscus, I'll burn my damn tongue
Sea salt on that cookie plate, I call that Atlantic crumbs
She from Idaho, her friends Cali-tated though
She from outta town, she never seen no ocean, wow
She asked me, what's my favorite place to spend a lot? Uh
That depends, like an eight dough bagel box

Copyright: CONCORD MUSIC PUBLISHING LLC, Warner Chappell Music, Inc.
Writer(s): Clifford F. Simpson, Dominique Simpson, Isaiah Merriweather, Jonah Alessandro Abraham, Matthew Champion, Russell Boring