I issue dope out of my ho house
I count money and blow smoke out
I fuck groupies, I sell shows out
I lost niggas, I pour more out
Ain't your business, stay in your lane
Ayy don't speak on shit you don't know 'bout
All that back and forth talkin'
If it's real beef then shots gos out, yeah
That's just how I feel about it, that's just how I'm feelin'
I'm cruisin' the foreign with some bunnies, drop the ceiling
Ho callin' my phone, talkin' 'bout time, you ain't mine
Niggas tryna get with the gang, nah, you ain't my kind

You ain't my kind, pussy stand in line
Don't call my phone, when you do I hit decline
See shots gon' go out, they gon' ask me 'bout my whereabouts
I was at my ho house with my dick all in that ho mouth
Icebox got my wrist froze, on me seafood, I'm at Pappadeaux
I got my lil young bitch, mouth wide open, trap don't ever close
I got my lil niggas on some hot shit, ridin' with dracos
If they catch a charge don't worry 'bout it, bonds I make those
Thumbin' through these pesos in the bando with Big Dandro
I went crazy in Guns N Ammo, I must think I'm Rambo
Through money, guns, and crime, BGE, yeah that's my famo
I handle wicks like a candle
Pull a drive-by out a Lambo

I issue dope out of my ho house
I count money and blow smoke out
I fuck groupies, I sell shows out
I lost niggas, I pour more out
Ain't your business, stay in your lane
Ayy don't speak on shit you don't know 'bout
All that back and forth talkin'
If it's real beef then shots gos out, yeah
That's just how I feel about it, that's just how I'm feelin'
I'm cruisin' the foreign with some bunnies, drop the ceiling
Ho callin' my phone, talkin' 'bout time, you ain't mine
Niggas tryna get with the gang, nah, you ain't my kind

Indictment time, niggas out here droppin' dimes
I'm somewhere layin' low with my feet up on recline
Don't pay no mind, I'm just worried 'bout me and mine
You wasn't straight from the start
You a fraud, I peeped the signs
You lil niggas so behind
You need to catch up like Heinz
Diamonds, ooh they shinin'
Invested fifty in my time
I walk in Christian Loub's, spike on my shoe like porcupine
Hitters in the trap spot, holdin' choppers, lookin' out blinds, yeah
I'm on the grind, ooh I been runnin' up iron, yeah
My watch ain't regular, I got them pointers in mine
I got a ho that's a dime, she never get out of line
She know if she say the wrong thing or speak out of turn
She can get fired

I issue dope out of my ho house
I count money and blow smoke out
I fuck groupies, I sell shows out
I lost niggas, I pour more out
Ain't your business, stay in your lane
Ayy don't speak on shit you don't know 'bout
All that back and forth talkin'
If it's real beef then shots gos out, yeah
That's just how I feel about it, that's just how I'm feelin'
I'm cruisin' the foreign with some bunnies, drop the ceiling
Ho callin' my phone, talkin' 'bout time, you ain't mine
Niggas tryna get with the gang, nah, you ain't my kind

Copyright: Kobalt Music Publishing Ltd.
Writer(s): Demario White, Dyllan Christopher McKinney