Queen Pin Gris flipping bricks
Sold my soul, profited
Colombian Neck tie shit
In the snow a numbed out kiss
Hey, I hope the afterlife is more turnt than this
Hey, I hope the underworld bumps my shit
Tell me where to go, tell me where they show
Gucci meth hoes inside the Gucci stores
It's that Gucci flow, that'll give you Gucci bags
Or Gucci tags on them Gucci toes for selling that Gucci blow in Hialeah
Yanisleidy don't wanna a drive a fiat
She would marry the first dude with money that she sees
Met in a mosh pit, L the crowd hostage, anything a profit
F*ck that soft shit, gonna fatten up my pockets
Keep that shit in lock and key, and if I can't sell the key
Say goodbye to me
Queen Pin Gris with the hits
Dion Sanders with the sprint
Iceberg with the tips
Y'all ain't bout this shit
We came up we came up from elementary
Taught each other like a university
Now we ignore the drought hoes be thirsty
On my grown man shit a young Cuban hit thirty
Sold an ounce of that good shit
At a party with a bad bitch
Getting marked your the candidate
For f*cking with my cannibus
So for a can of bliss
I'm gon handle it
Its drama time
On the front line
A young cuban hit 30
On my grown man shit