(FOREVEROLLING)

Tunnel vision, I ain't crashin' out, get in the way and we making collision (grrt)
Everybody shootin' so when we hit ain't no tellin' who did it (boom)
Rap, trap or the field, whichever one, just respect my decision (ayy)
Temperature so hot up in this bitch, I might burn up the kitchen (hot)
Fizzle might burn up the pot (hot), work my wrist from side to side
Then set up shop from block to block
Heard they were plottin' on a lick, so I went and bought a bigger Glock
Bigger gun in shot for shot, 1K 4L, I'm claimin' 'em all
Them youngins bang to a hundred blocks

Jackson 5, my diamonds dancin', look like Michael in this watch (prr)
I'm that young nigga that took a game up to another notch
Toss a ho, no love for thots (thots, thots)
I was all in middle school, with rubber bands on monkey knots
Bitch, I'm callin' shots (shots), that young nigga hot (hot)
2021, that's how I just swerve off the lot (skrrt)
Might catch me in Calabasas somewhere on a yacht (yup)
In my section with that Wesson, three Backwoods and four thots (big brrt)
Upgraded my shots (yeah)
I need plenty rounds, so when I shoot, this ho don't stop (brrt)
These niggas be gangster, shit go left, they turn to cops (flop)
I just threw a scope on top my Glock like Black Ops (yeah)
Still a ghost out in them trenches, with them Bentleys set up shop

Tunnel vision, I ain't crashin' out, get in the way and we making collision (grrt)
Everybody shootin' so when we hit ain't no tellin' who did it (boom)
Rap, trap or the field, whichever one, just respect my decision (ayy)
Temperature so hot up in this bitch, I might burn up the kitchen (hot)
Fizzle might burn up the pot (hot), work my wrist from side to side
Then set up shop from block to block
Heard they were plottin' on a lick, so I went and bought a bigger Glock
Bigger gun in shot for shot, 1K 4L, I'm claimin' 'em all
Them youngins bang to a hundred blocks

Gang shit, no lame shit (gang)
Hit you, get your brain split (huh?)
Ever since I made a dollar (yup), I ain't felt the same since (on God)
Field nigga, but get red, don't play with that kill switch
Let them birds come through the mail, I swear bae a real bitch (real)
I swear bae a real ho (ho, ho)
Told myself that I'ma quit, but I can't leave the trenches 'lone (no, no)
On the E-Way hit two hundred, bitch, I'm solo in my zone (skrrt)
You ain't tryna make long money, why the fuck you on my phone? (Huh?)
I feel like I'm Gucci Mane (huh?), You know kush is my cologne (yup)
Hit the block, I find the nearest lick, we get them bitches gone
Say, don't knock on the front door, just hit the size, you need a zone
Break down a pack and make it stack, I'm trappin' hard out the black phone

Tunnel vision, I ain't crashin' out, get in the way and we making collision (grrt)
Everybody shootin' so when we hit ain't no tellin' who did it (boom, boom, boom)
Rap, trap or the field, whichever one, just respect my decision (ayy)
Temperature so hot up in this bitch, I might burn up the kitchen (hot)
Fizzle might burn up the pot (hot), work my wrist from side to side
Then set up shop from block to block
Heard they were plottin' on a lick, so I went and bought a bigger Glock
Bigger gun in shot for shot, 1K 4L, I'm claimin' 'em all
Them youngins bang to a hundred blocks

Copyright: Songtrust Ave, Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC
Writer(s): Henning Grüschow, Jeffrey Lynn Jones Jr, Jeremiah Northern