[ Featuring Finn ]
Check check check check 1 2
Let me talk my shit
Let me vividly paint my lifestyle for like the f*ckin past decade and a half
Shit I need a job
Thank god for rap though
1, 2 How I salsa wit it
1, 2 How the sauce ah hit em
So smoove how I'm bossy wit it
They tried to throw me away but I'm found like lost equipment
4 Trips never lost a shipment
Different motives if we talking bidness
Betta come strong if you want it all
We cuh talk specifics
If it's filth
I mastered physics
4 Lines on the table had her kneeling like she all religious
Made the bitch clean the whole plate
She ain't washing dishes
S'Alotta fish thats on er lippage
So high she over talked her limit
I cuh smell the cigarettes on her breath in every sentence
Feeling noxious wit her
The vibe drab like and awful picture
I came for head
Instead a sold a ball while watching Christian Slater in a mobster picture
I'm out this bitch through talkin witcha
Bitch where the head at
So filthy when we walk it
Not guilty when we talk it
White lines when we chalk it
Baby nines in the pocket
That's for close range aim
We never miss a target
Brought it back in a car kit
Sold mines in the starship
No step no garbage
Had em comin back plenty time day time lunch lines looking like targets
