(Marc Boomin, this you?)

I’m sick, she taking to me like that

Ayy

I’ma get the money, let you niggas have the hoes

Just dropped a six, in an hour I got a show

I can smell the pussy nigga, it be reeking off they clothes

I’m wearing Off-White, forgot I bought it, I was blown

Seven thousand all dubs, 'bout to spend it on clothes

Off juice every day, I can’t sleep without a pole

Go get you some money, that other shit getting old

Trying to play it like it's sweet, I had shit getting bold

He just got two bricks, he don’t really know a load

Sipping cream sodas, I ain't fucking with Patrón

Her head too good, got me changing up my tone

I sell anything but my motherfucking soul

On the road with some fire, I don’t wanna go home

Back in high school, I was trying to touch in

I got a zip and a Glock in my motherfucking coat

I just put a deuce of Wock' in this little 24

I ain’t focused on these hoes, you won’t ever really win

These bitches do whatever for some petty ass revenge

I'ma kick it with my self, everybody acts weird

Bitch I drink lean, not no motherfucking beer

'Bout to put solitaires in my motherfucking ear

Old hoes on my line, heard I'm 'bout to sign a deal

I get her gone for real as soon as he gets a seal

We gon' hold that chopper when shit gets real

Kick it with the clerk, I’m trying to work, let’s cut a deal

The number on the blows 'bout to bang out a zero

Bitch, I hit the set and go to Saks for my apparel

I ain’t into saving hoes, you betrying to be the hero

My dawg off an eight, I'm just hoping he alive

Turned myself into a boss, can't no bitch hurt my pride

Your nigga ain’t a shooter, he can’t make it to Belle Isle

It be looking like a circus when your whole gang around