[ Featuring Meechy Darko, Zombie Juice ]
Yeah
Never in your f*ckin' life
Look
Ayo
In the bank, makin' deposits (uh-huh)
I was just sellin' crank in the projects (I was)
Now I get Franks rippin' a concert (uh-huh)
Broke 'cause you niggas ain't poppin'
A nigga took a risk and I prospered
Got plenty in the pot, many options, bigger horizons (yeah)
My nigga, I'm risin', big Benz what I arrived in
Bad bitch drivin', fly king (uh-huh)
Pay homage, sellin' beige product
Got to chase profit, tailor-made garments (yeah)
Every bitch that I lay a goddess (yeah)
I been 'bout it, 'bout it, ain't no way around it (nah)
Every day I'm countin' plenty pay, was drownin'
In the street, mommy pray I make it out it
Started with a stone, then I made a mountain (I did)
On my own, plenty haters doubted
Got the pay and power, ain't respectin' cowards (nah)
Know the world is ours, that's obvious (yeah)
Without this rap shit, I'd be lit (uh-huh)
Plenty dirty cash you'll see papi with (work)
All you niggas squares like a floppy disk
Unoriginal carbon copy shit
But you bum-ass niggas could not be this (you niggas washed)
I had to rise, my eyes seen lots of shit
Millionaire dreams (yeah), money's what I need (yeah)
Phone full of fiends (yeah), pocket full of beans (yeah)
Mind full of schemes (yeah), pistol in my jeans (bap, bap)
Christian Dior clean (uh-huh)
Bet on myself, it's a sure thing (yeah)
Win after win, I need more rings (yeah)
Me and my niggas, we all kings (yeah)
Pushin' big body foreigns
Millionaire dreams (yeah), money's what I need (yeah)
Phone full of fiends (yeah), pocket full of beans (yeah)
Mind full of schemes (yeah), pistol in my jeans (bah, bah)
Christian Dior clean (yeah)
Bet on myself, it's a sure thing (uh-huh)
Win after win, I need more rings (yeah)
Me and my niggas, we all kings (yeah)
Pushin' big body foreigns (whoa)
Dig up yo' grave, piss on your ashes
Whole lot of passion but zero compassion
Uppin' in fashion, lowkey sociopathic
Spin the block, this a "Kill a cop and grip on your pistol" anthem
Give 'em hell, give them shells
Give them more, and give them caskets, f*ckin'-
Spit on my enemy's grave, mhm
Blood drippin' on my blade, mhm
I guess yo' momma didn't pray for you
She f*ck me like that's what she made to do
Acid, acid and an eighth of shroom
My automatic got a laser too
Aim and shoot, Mercedes coupe
Pussy drippin' and it's flavorful
Pistol grippin' and the aim is cool
Click-click, bang-bang, and boom
It's hard to get a bloodstain removed
Couple locs with me and I'm packin' too
Dirty with the beam, I ain't hittin' who?
Sturdy on the beam, Kenny flippin' two
Put the hood on what I'm 'posed to do
Pocket full of stones, big pimp Juice
Diamonds in my mouth, got a bitch choosey
Might drape her down, she got a real booty
Shorty work the blade, she gon' stick to it
Countin' dirty money, got a fetish to it
All I know is pain, kinda used to it
Niggas at the Grammys, I'm in the crib trappin'
Murder on my mind, I think I need relaxin'
Look him in his eyes, I can tell he cappin'
See you in Hell when my casket drop
Kill 'em all, kill 'em all, and your mom and pops
Like, how could I go broke but my hundreds of coke
Plus songs I wrote, what y'all niggas hope?
In the cut like I'm bloody that you niggas poke
Rome Streetz in this bitch, thought y'all niggas knew
Flatbush Ave in the buildin' probably
Knew you but we gods to this shit
Got the work to prove, like
Millionaire dreams, money's what I need
Phone full of fiends, pocket full of beans
Mind full of schemes, pistol in my jeans
Christian Dior clean
Bet on myself, that's a sure thing
Win after win, I need more rings
Me and my niggas, we all kings
Pushin' big body foreigns
