Somebody call the fraud department
(La Música de Harry Fraud)
Haha
You know what we on
(Make sure your pieces hittin', nigga)

I'm still in and out the hood with the bag on me (facts)
Done-done niggas good, then went bad on me (fuck 'em)
Felt like Suge in '96 with the red rag on me (Eastside)
The way I've been tacklin' shit, they should put pads on me
Play has changed, so I might call an audible (hike)
Turned the AR to a pistol, nigga, now the gun's portable (loaded)
We gon' ride like the tank is on a quarter full
Got us feelin' like robbin' the bank is what we oughta do
They talk of smoke like I'm too rich to slide
I drop a bag and they told me that's how much a bitch had cried (boo-hoo, nigga)
We let that heat go just like the Britain skies
And I used to cook up coke in the same pot the chicken fried (lucky)
You gotta watch the wicked media
They tryna find my network on Wikipedia (facts)
I can't recall tellin' that bitch that I needed her (sheesh)
If she a bad bitch, nigga, tell me where they breeded her, fucker

Shit, now that sound like a lose-lose
I be in all the main events with the who's who's
We been puttin' masks on 'fore the new flus
Nigga, I still run around, pocket full of new blues
Shit, now that sound like a lose-lose
I be in all the main events with the who's who's
We been puttin' masks on 'fore the new flus
Nigga, I still run around, pocket full of new blues

M's in the bank, over eight hundred credit (I'm loaded)
Word is my bond, it's gon' rain if I said it (factual)
If we shoot a movie, it's no way we can edit (uh-uh)
We just charge it to the game 'cause we love playin' with debit (what's the Venmo?)
We'll haul liquid like this water on my neck (facts)
Bitch, that's for sure, it's no shortage on the flex (ooh)
I got a jewelry box with Audemars and Pateks
We be playin' Call of Duty, goin' to war on the jet
When I'm hungry, four-course meal on the yacht deck
This Yachtmaster on the dock got his watch wet (ill)
Been talkin' beef, you ain't run up on the opp yet
We been ready to shoot like the clock tickin' with a shot left
All these new rappers, they just rap for clout (fuck them lil' niggas)
Happened to them choppas you was rappin' 'bout? (You got it on you?)
If my name slip out your lips, then I'ma slap your mouth
Start frontin' on us and we start backin' out

Shit, now that sound like a lose-lose
I be in all the main events with the who's who's
We been puttin' masks on 'fore the new flus
Nigga, I still run around, pocket full of new blues
Shit, now that sound like a lose-lose
I be in all the main events with the who's who's
We been puttin' masks on 'fore the new flus
Nigga, I still run around, pocket full of new blues

Copyright: Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC, Universal Music Publishing Group
Writer(s): Joseph Guillermo Jones II, Rory W. Quigley