[ Featuring Drego ]
You know the grind, you can't cheat it
That's why I trap for four seasons
Demons in the Demon
Glock-19 leave you leakin'
All this ice on me but I ain't freezin'
Yeah I'ma let 'em have it
Shooters matchin' Gucci bandanas
F*ck around and do it on the camera
Like, look at all these bands I done ran up
Made the trap snow like Santa
Even when I'm leanin' on the Scanna nigga
This a Trackhawk, not no Camaro (SRT)
She say Burna I ain't tryna share you
F*ck her friend now she say I'm a player
Ballin' hard, some' like Tatum
All these extended magazinеs
I ain't talkin' bout the Fader
Trappin' out the buildin' and I'm
Sеrvin' all the neighbors
And you know by any means, man
I gotta get this paper
Bad bitch came through slayin' so you
Know I had to slay her
She ain't suckin' dick then I'll
Holla at you later don't come to my block
Them youngins givin' out tapers
Got 50 bands just to ice out the
Watchin' ozzies diamonds hit like Joe Frazier
We made em viral, put 'em on the front page
Yeah
Man, boy, uh put you on the news
I can't lie lil' bro
Can't even share a deuce
Got some top shop for you, it'll take a two
Got this hotrod for you
Better be breakin' news
Niggas snooze, play the fool
Knock him out his shoes
This shit brazy how I turn
All of the greater blues
My shoelaces say "SHOELACES
" this Off White boo
It's kinda brazy c'ause my
Bag kinda off-white too
We don't play it by the rules
Nigga, we gon make 'em, we gon break 'em
Hit him, shake him, right now they impatient
Niggas talk shit
That's the type of shit that turn me
Up and get 'em offed quick
Gotta chill down on em Percs
They be havin' me nauseous i'm the shit
How the f*ck this AR grow
Some tit's? Send a blitz
Feds tryna sneak a picture so
I'm fresh as shit
I can buy a nigga bag and I can buy his bitch
I can buy a nigga bag and I can buy his bitch
I can buy a nigga top and I can buy a brick
Rolls-Royce Cullinan, five-percent tint
Like Donatello
My young niggas play with sticks
Turn his ass fifth money on your head
You know we gon bring that cash in racks in
She gon' shake that ass for that backend
All these Borden's plastic, elastic
Can't fit bando boomin', can't get a
Chance to eat, sleep, shit
Water on my wrist
Bitch say it get her seasick
Crodie finger itch
He don't really need a reason
We deep in the club and you
Know we brought the heat in
And It's in his sleeve just
In case these niggas schemin'
I got on Palm Angels but
I'm hoppin' in the demon