(Je t'aime Trippie Redd)
(I'm shy, oh my God)
(This is a certified hood classic)

No face, no case, so my homie wear a mask
Keep a choppa on his waist, he'll draw that bitch fast
Get the fuck up out my face if you ain't talkin' 'bout cash
Big deal, I'm a titan and these niggas wanna clash
We'll run up to your door and dash
Boy, we keep the choppas, we get busy
Most turnt nigga in the bity, know we keep it litty like a titty
This bitch high as hell, hit the whippet can until she get dizzy

I need 300K in every damn city
Twenty thousand people every night and, yes, bitch, I brought the gang with me
Pussy shot the bus up, but he missed me
They was mad they homeboy ran down and got a smooth buck-fifty
If I buck, then the gang buck with me
VVS the gang, baby, yeah, fuck with me
Send a couple shots and see what's up with me
Damn, I see the opps, I'ma shoot, bae, duck with me
And it's in her purse, she slidin' too, she clutch with me
If the cops pull me over then she put it in her kitty
Walkin' through my hood with a drum, it hold like fifty
556 for them niggas bein' dumb, no kizzy
Off a Percocet, got my mind dancin' like Shiggy
The big boss, no Rick Ross, bitch, more like Biggie
I been puffin' on this gas, got me feelin' like Diddy
Catch a opp, walk 'em down, then hit the damn griddy

No face, no case, so my homie wear a mask
Keep a choppa on his waist, he'll draw that bitch fast
Get the fuck up out my face if you ain't talkin' 'bout cash
Big deal, I'm a titan and these niggas wanna clash
We'll run up to your door and dash
Boy, we keep the choppas, we get busy
Most turnt nigga in the bity, know we keep it litty like a titty
This bitch high as hell, hit the whippet can until she get dizzy

Back out the 'Rarri doin' donuts
Called her, said she with her boyfriend, I'm like, "So what?"
Took a PJ to the money, now I'm stuck in traffic, tell the pilot, "Hold up"
We done came from the bottom, I ain't had no other choice but to go up
Now I'm jumpin' on stage, need one-point-shh just to show up
I'm the littest in the city, Cubans on, it be hard to chill
Ten carats, it be hard to hear, my hood treat me like a God for real
They know I been husltin' all my life and I ain't never had a job for real
Count it up and then take flight, hit it then forget it, same night
I remember bein' stuck off in the trap, found a plug and then I got right
These niggas with me always keep a mask, I can't trust a soul, these niggas shiesty
I done took a gamble with my life, 4 Gang, everybody piped
Count a hundred million, that's my vibe, gotta hit shit, man, when you slide

No face, no case, so my homie wear a mask
Keep a choppa on his waist, he'll draw that bitch fast
Get the fuck up out my face if you ain't talkin' 'bout cash
Big deal, I'm a titan and these niggas wanna clash
We'll run up to your door and dash
Boy, we keep the choppas, we get busy
Most turnt nigga in the bity, know we keep it litty like a titty
This bitch high as hell, hit the whippet can until she get dizzy

Copyright: Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC, Universal Music Publishing Group
Writer(s): Andreas Cristian Matura, Dominique Jones, Igor Mamet, Michael Lamar II White, Peter Jideonwo