Whole Lotta Grey. Video (MV)

I got, I got
I got, I got (two to beam up, Scotty)
I got a .40 on my hip, I got a 30 up my nose
I got twenty inch rims, holdin' it down with ten toes
I got zero time for hoes (sorry, ladies), 59 is the gang
I'm just sayin' how it goes, I'm just showin' off my fame
All these lames, all these dames, all these chains, I can't do it
All this fame, all these claims, all the same, I think I'm movin' (yeah)
Walk wild 'round my body, Oddy f*ck with nobody (no)
I make millions off a hobby, still feel anxious in the lobby, yuh
Yeah, it's like my soul is made of Richard camouflage
I'm in a Dodge in a garage huffin' exhaust, huh, yeah
Realest thing about me is my middle name Andrew
This whole time y'all have been witnessin' my Joker performance (ha, ha, ha)
Yeah, I don't give a f*ck, I'm over it
Take me off my leash and then be Ruby the f*ckin' Doberman
Take these cars, outfits, stupid trends off social media
All I see is demons conjuring to
Pedophilia (ugh, y'all nasty)
I got, huh, I got, huh
I got, I got (two to beam up, Scotty)
I got Glocks with no kick (fah), I got Ks with a switch (yeah)
I got head I can't forget from a young New Orleans witch (bitch)
I got Xans in my, I got, uh, lemme check
That's your whole life's work on my motherf*ckin' wrist (ooh-ooh)
I got chains all wet (what), I got pain in my glass (yeah)
F*ck your song, I don't care (nuh)
F*ck your gang, it don't compare (Grey)
If I hang this in the air
Gotta tat' it on my throat (what)
I'm the antonym of hope
Change my legal name to G.O.A.T. (wet, wet, wet)
She like, "Oh my God, why you go that hard?"
Everything that KRXZY touch, it turn to avant-garde
Mojo, then pull up hard, just put some in my arm
They call me Checkmark Shawty, shoot like Jason Bourne (shoot, shoot, shoot)
Shakewell need a hunnid pack, throw my dawg a hunnid racks
Carryin' the game, you would think I got a hunnid backs (North)
Googlin' my net worth, that won't even cover tax
Still that boy up out the shack, fix your mouth and run it back (wet)
I got, I got
I got, I got (two to beam up, Scotty)
I got nothing else to say that already ain't bein' said (oh no, no)
I got people want me dead 'cause of messages I ain't read (I ain't read)
I got fifty-nine problems, I solve 'em with FNs (FN, yeah)
Nine times out of ten, it be always your best friend (best friend, yeah)
I got sweat, drippin' fit, I'm a poison Demons dance around, cut 'em down with my forces
She cream on my cock when she bop in her corset
I'ma hug the block with my Hellcat and my Kel-Tec, hellbent
F*ck a mood ring, I got more swings than ARs (pop, pop)
Traveling too sus', I put thirty in your new car (oh no, no)
That boy don't drink, this three hunnid make him blackout
Hit her from the front but this
Backstroke make her tap out
(Fah-fah-fah-fah)
SMG the 59, it go la-la-la-la
.223 the backline
Let it sing, let it sing like my Springfield XD9 (okay)
Yeah my Glocky Regis Philbin, that boy need a life line (sip)