Yeah

If the judge give me life, who gon' bury my mama?
All my niggas buying ice, trying to marry Rihanna
I ain't trying to make it right, two fully loaded choppers
I ain't trying to make it right
Why these lil' niggas bite?
Why they give my uncle forty-seven years for a fight?
Why they give my nigga sixty-seven months for some pistols?
Fully loaded F&N, getting fifteen for this one
Free my little brother Ron, I drop tears 'cause I miss him
If it's money on your head, I hop out, come and get it
I'ma come and get the fetti
Man, that lil nigga petty
I got three fully loaded choppеrs on me, Ed, Edd n Eddy

I'ma headshot a nigga, make his hеad look like new spaghetti
Automatic switch on all my chops, trying to hold 'em steady
I know lil' dog a bitch, I'm in Revive, me and Mitch
They can't put that murder on us
'less they hit 'em with a switch
All my shoes be Dior
I got lean, but buy more
I wear a three thousand dollar outfit to record
I might go and hit the opp's baby mama 'cause I'm bored
All I see is comma, comma, comma, comma, I want more
Got an AirBnB out of town, Jersey Shore
Way before I did a song, I was kicking niggas doors
Made my first thirty racks sleeping on the floor
Made my first thirty racks and it made me want more
I'ma bring a Lamborghini to my hood and raise the doors up
I might sip a couple pints, but I am not fucking my nose up
And niggas broke as hell sneak dissing
I'm like, "So what? "
Every night a chef cooking up my meal, you eating cold cuts
Shit, because me and my son rich
We shoot niggas on some fun shit
Any ho played with me before, she a dumb bitch
Got so many zeros in the bank, boy, I'm dumb rich
All my jewelry came from Hutch
I ain't got no golden sun
My FN brown and black
Wide body Hellcats
Nigga, when we go and slide only time we drive the scats
I want like twenty K if you want me on your track
You can't charge for them ver—
You can't charge for them verses 'cause everything is—
You can't charge for them verses
everything you make is whack
It take a hour to smoke one of my 'Woods 'cause they bats
We don't do no one-on-ones, do I look like Kyla Pratt?
I'ma pull up with the MAC
He keep asking where I'm at
Goose Knuckles two thousand, belt and shoes cost a stack
I got like a hundred belts
I smoke exotic for my health
I know if I sign a deal, they won't have me on the shelf
When I put my Cuban on, I just think I'm Michael Phelps
I ain't gotta fuck with niggas
it ain't like I need they help
She gon' wanna fuck again, she remember how it felt
I done bought so much Amiri, I need to talk to Mike himself
All my choppers fully loaded
And my double cup is potion
Every bitch I'm fucking on, the inside feel like a ocean
I can't really help it, everywhere I go, I'm noticed
Why you niggas out here doing
groupie shit like I won't know it?