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Tash Davis on the beat, yeah DJ Victoriouz with me in the building Uh A hunnid million what I'm tryna get Anything to get this paper, bitch, I'm tryin' it, uh Ain't nobody gon' play with me, nigga, reach, I'm firin' it (Bah) Know your enemy, go broke lil' nigga, mm-mm, I'm dyin' with it, boy (Lil Uzi, let's go, yeah) You ain't got guap like this You ain't got cash like this (Yeah) You ain't got guap like this Suck my dick, bitch, ashy lips (Yeah) You ain't got guap like this You ain't got cash like this (Yeah) You ain't got guap like this (Yeah) You ain't got cash like this (Yeah) Smokin' exotic, I'm high ass shit I'll die if I don't keep this bitch on my hip Hopefully I don't shoot this bitch off the rim Ain't like you rappers with all that lip (Shit) Canary my diamond, they wet just like lemon (What?) Ocean my neck and this shit like Pacific (Yeah) I like my bitches with fat ass and titties (Yeah) No, no, no, Lil Uzi, not too specific (Let's go) Letras de cancionesAin't like you bappers, we real Kobe Cappers You niggas be actors and not even factors Playin' with the racks and they back in the back seat I shoot like a Raptor, a rapper attack me DM that ho, but she still in my mentions Bitches be talkin', these ho they be snitchin' Niggas be talkin', these niggas be snitchin' Got a Glock on my waist and I had to click-click it A hunnid million what I'm tryna get Anything to get this paper, bitch, I'm tryin' it, uh Ain't nobody gon' play with me, nigga, reach, I'm firin' it (Bah) Know your enemy, go broke lil' nigga, mm-mm, I'm dyin' with it, boy (Let's go, yeah) You ain't got guap like this You ain't got cash like this (Yeah) You ain't got guap like this (Yeah) You ain't got cash like this (Yeah) You ain't got guap like this (Let's go) You ain't got cash like this (Yeah) You ain't got guap like this (Yeah) You ain't got cash like this (Yeah) Canary my diamond, they wet just like lemon Ocean my neck and this shit like Pacific I like my bitches with fat ass and titties No, no, no, Lil Uzi, not too specific DM that ho, but she still in my mentions Bitches be talkin', these ho they be snitchin' Niggas be talkin', these niggas be snitchin' Got a Glock on my waist and I had to click-click it I went to every jeweler in this shit, told all of 'em, better not tax me And I got two bribs in LA right now 'cause that's where the packs be You don't know we in the 'Raq runnin' shit, you don't know us Empty the clip off a hip, pour a four up On the bullshit, on the block like Noah Give me the beef well-done like BOA, bitch Certified nigga, can't see what I'm shootin' I pop out with your bitch, I had to recruit her Okay, she know I fucked with all her friends But she don't say nothin', she scared to lose me (Let's go) I fuck them lil' bitches right to my music Pull out my dick, bitches start flutin' woah She say she don't fuck with niggas, uh (What?) So she still shoppin' at Gucci (Let's go) Way before rap wasn't lyin' on IG Actually been here, sauce like Zaxby’s, ayy, uh Built my wave like Max B I'm in New York, free Max B I be in a New York like a taxi Ridin' the Lambo truck, finna pull up, swerve Car seat in the backseat Your bitch, she attracted to money (Nyoom) Yeah that's why she fuckin' (Yeah) My niggas attracted to shootin' That's why they keep bussin' (Woah) I'm with the gang for life You know that I'm stuck in it (Yeah) You know they gon' up that price You know they ain't touchin' shit Niggas gettin' richer, but smoke, we ain't duckin' it I'm in Chiraq when I ride with a hunnid clip Richard Mille plain cost a hunnid clip Pushin' the Rolls, but the Maybach my brother whip Yeah, that boy Vert know he hit me, I'm comin' quick Fuck all this rappin', we ain't with that sucka shit Hunnid clip, pull out the window and dump at you We backin' friends, feel comfortable (Let's go, yeah) You ain't got guap like this You ain't got cash like this (Yeah) You ain't got guap like this (Yeah) You ain't got cash like this (Yeah) You ain't got guap like this (Let's go) You ain't got cash like this (Yeah) You ain't got guap like this (Yeah) You ain't got cash like this (Yeah) Bitch, I'm havin' shit I wear a whip on my wrist Real killers ridin' with straps, can't respond to rap, I don't trip on a diss When we print out the physicals, cop my disc Chill out, hop off my dick Yeah, it's me and Vert, skrrt Big forty'll burst, you get murked, jerk (Pussy) Brand new Richard Mille, yeah Hop out, stack, do this, yeah Brand new Lambo, runnin' through red lights like I'm the track with that bitch (Nyoom) Brand new red 'Rari, uh, ain't no traction in it, yeah From Letras Mania