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(Ooh, shit, that's a Danny G beat) (Don't you know you won the lotto?) (Damn, JakeSand) Man, this bitch a head bop, boy, your bitch a head bop Better drop and play dead, accurate with red dot I'll turn a lemonade, Minute Maid to red pop I'm in Gucci out in Boston, five hundred for red socks Tour time, eleven days, I'm on my tenth stop Shooter catch two hats a year, he workin' on his tenth top What's a rest stop? On the road, pedal pushin' in some deadstocks How the kitchen full of ice but the 'Rex hot? Hangin' with a mouse, fuck is you, a desktop? You know if you miss, it ain't over, it's a next shot But it ain't no tellin' when Caught an opp out, I gotta go and visit Hеll again Cutty sit in one spot, all he know is sellin' sin Lil' brodiе got a foreign striker, he gon' bend the Benz Keep it a hunnid, you can't spend a ten Flyin' down 8 Mile, thinkin' 'bout them M's on M's They call me the new Eminem Playin' with the bag still, you gon' catch a win Life a movie, I can predict the future except the end Everything bust on the black six except the lens Everybody want the mirror tints now Letras de cancionesEver since I threw 'em on, my vision clear as shit now Get the fuck out unless you wanna hear the blick pop I know you hear me talkin', I ain't fearin' shit, God This is uptown, I ain't YN Jay, this ain't CoochieLand I know you see me pull up TRX, not the Doonie van Daily on the psilocybin, I'm the shroomie man Why you rappin' 'bout Sak's Fifth, you shop at Zumiez, man Switched up from the Amiris, rockin' Gucci pants I can double up a G, I call that Gucci bands Lil' brodie hot, fightin' the same shit that Boosie had Lil' brodie hot, fightin' the same shit that Melly is We'll sting him in the deep, the ARP a jellyfish I'ma blame the Casamigos, bitches at the telly lit Better wear you two shiestys, comin' 'round this fetty brick Ridin' 'round with heavy shit, you can't tell 'cause the presi' tint At Kyoto, played out the Yoshi and the Beni' shit Lil' bitch tryna F me off the Fendi drip Runnin' off and leave her head red like the Wendy's bitch Extra grip on my boots, you won't catch me slip Shit, I'm too balanced Get money, stack money, I got two habits That don't include my True habits At least a deuce every day, I got a juice habit Couldn't even lie if I tried, I got a truth habit Shitty Boyz, Dog Shit Militia, long live $cams From Letras Mania