Oh, yeah, everybody killa
Tryna make it to the top, we can't take everybody with us
We can't get everybody rich, we can't fuck everybody bitches
I'm afraid to catch a case, I feel like everybody snitchin'
Cold sweats and the shivers, I be havin' premonitions
Growin' up, ain't have no license, 'less it said to check the engine
'Less we had to spark the wick, show somebody that we miss 'em
I will park a nigga shit, streets got dark and niggas quit, huh
Tell me where you from, I ain't heard of that
In the city, baby, your first rap can be a murder rap
I will let you hold it, but you gotta bring my burner back
One up in the top, I get to drop, you know I'm surfin' that
Send him up to heaven gates, now his mom is sellin' plates
Now his homies watchin' cars, 'cause he out here actin' hard
Please, don't try to get involved 'less you wanna prove it
'Cause my gangsters really movin', ho, don't cut 'em, niggas shootin', wait

Copyright: Warner Chappell Music, Inc.
Writer(s): Thibault Antoine Dominguez, Vince Staples