作词 : Dominique Jones/Eelis Samuel Oikarinen/Frédéric Lapointe/Jeffery Williams/Wesley Glass

作曲 : Dominique Jones/Eelis Samuel Oikarinen/Frédéric Lapointe/Jeffery Williams/Wesley Glass

Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah

Fresh, like the first day of the school on the weekend

I put this shit on today, for no reason

Got somethin' to smile about, I fixed up my teeth

Straight from the lot, call up Herm, get it geeked up

Thousand horse power, my car gotta keep up

Act like I'm slow all the time, but I peep stuff

What kinda guy let a bitch keep the beef up?

I let 'em live for a while, now the lease up

Nail in the hammer, I done built it from the ground up

Brodie say he workin', but the bricks, them went down somethin'

They handle the business, I do not go around them

You can get a hundred if you want to, we got pound spots

I'm the one that's really havin' motion, what they talkin' 'bout?

Cars, I done did that, chains, don't need no more

So many clothes, startin' to feel like a hobo

Every milestone, tryna buy me a new home

Potholes keep on ****in' up the Forgi's, take the rims off

The way she twist and suck it, like she tryna take the skin off

Bro 'nem, in a striker, but it’s good, we swapped the vins out

Don't bark up this tree, I make the chopper knock his limb off

Thousand dollar after every road, that’s what they hittin' for

All I do is **** her, I done turned her to a nympho

F.N.'s, blackouts, Gen 5s, Gen 4s

Trippin' for the family, I don’t play about my kin folk

I took the guys to L.A. for a business meetin'

God, watch my friends, I can handle my enemies

**** I look like havin' smoke with my many me's?

Niggas gotta be jokin', you kiddin' me?

Y'all real kids, been small-time ballin', now it's real big

I was standin' in the bleachers, on some cheerin' shit

Never been a hater, I don't care enough

This shit ain't gon' stop until they bury us

Fresh off the jet, I end up in the projects

See somethin' I like, no police, I'ma cop it

Don’t follow my page, I post racks every day

For these niggas and bitches that's countin' my pockets

Ooh, hurdle this bitch in Huaraches

Lambo', Ferrari, Bentleys, I got options

I took the private jet out to Nevada

4PF CED, they got smoked like a rasta

Trenches with me

Somethin' seem suspicious, somethin' seemin' fishy

I'm four pockets full and look like biscuits

Overprice us and we uppin', uppin'

Fire, fire, fire, fire, that sound sound delicious

You can't use the dishes, in the kitchen cleanin'

Woo, woo, litty, can't abort the mission, bitch, I got addictions

I don't do photo, pictures, keep it low and with me

I took the guys to L.A. for a business meetin'

God, watch my friends, I can handle my enemies

**** I look like havin' smoke with my many me's?

Niggas gotta be jokin', you kiddin' me?

Y'all real kids, been small-time ballin', now it's real big

I was standin' in the bleachers, on some cheerin' shit

Never been a hater, I don't care enough

This shit ain't gon' stop until they bury u