[ Featuring Lil Baby ]
Yeah
I got Erv in this bitch, real Ninth Ward shit
Vulture Island
If you know, you know
(B.loadin, loadin)
Yeah, you wan' tell somebody business?
Tell 'em how you let me f*ck
I don't wanna hear 'bout none of your business
Ain't no Glock involved
My mind so f*cked up, I seen murders chillin' in the park
Talk on the net, I'll make my vultures go and flat his heart
Real steppa, he got six toes, he a creature
Projects everyday, he don't give no f*ck, he tryna leave some
Niggas know what happened 'bout 49 when he bleed
F*ck cuffin' a ho, my bro put niggas on a tee
Killin' all the rats, I'm robbin' all the robbers
I'm real trap star from Vulture Island
Alright, don't move wrong in this bitch, I'm finna shot some
Alright, the way he swing his dreads you think he Rasta
Alright, the Trackhawk start sound like it fire
Alright, I'm cheatin' with my main ho right on side of me
Alright, yeah, yeah, lotta money, lotta cars, lotta drugs
Yeah, yeah, niggas talkin', take his head clean off
Yeah, yeah, molly, molly, yeah, yeah, molly water
Yeah, yeah, drug sex, yeah, yeah, f*ck me harder
Yeah-yeah, yeah-yeah, yeah-yeah
Yeah-yeah, yeah-yeah, yeah-yeah
Yeah-yeah
Yeah, shake that ass bitch
Bleed how I bleed
I'm used to puttin' bitches on they knees. nigga
She tryna throw a sign, then throw a V (throw a V)
Alright, you tryna f*ck a boss, then f*ck with me, bitch
Alright, I'm gettin' to that cheddar, to that cheese, nigga
Did a ten piece in the feds like he a chicken
Cover my face after we f*ck, I don't kiss her
To tell the truth, I'm just a product of the trenches
Said, yeah, I spent a thousand on these sweats
I don't even want to take 'em off
I spent a thousand on this pussy, I think I'm gon' f*ck her raw
The Burberry hoodie cost me a bag
Yeah, I put her feelings in my lap, nigga
Yeah, I'm comin' from straight from out the trap, nigga
Yeah, a piece cost twenty-eight
He played, this pussy late
I'm used to, I'm used to
I'm so, I'm tryna duck a case
Make that ass clap
Make that ass clap
Make that ass clap
Make that ass clap
It's the remix
I might trip out on my Finsta, you can't follow me (nope)
This ho a G.O.A.T., her nigga don't know she really for the streets
And too much rappin', ain't no postin', that's my type of beef
You ready to try this shit and die? Well, damn, that's fine with me, alright
Lost it all before and went and got it back, alright
I got a record deal but I'm still gettin' active, alright
Them young niggas do drills inside a stolen Trackhawk, alright
If you ain't got no cash it's your fault
Real God, she get on her knees, I answer all her prayers
He a fraud, I can go back to the block if all else fails
Real sharp, big homie been taught me how to be a player
New house got an elevator, come from gamblin' on the stairs
Pack in, they done sent so much money for Wham, this shit on backorder
Really on some hunnid Ms a year shit, I just act normal
Really wanna show 'em how I feel, but I just let it be
Young bitch keep a pole, but she don't strip, she with the f*ckery
A lot of niggas know to keep it cordial 'cause they can't f*ck with me
Youngin just on the bottom of the gun, I keep a buck on me
Yeah-yeah, she want me to f*ck her with no rubber on
Yeah-yeah, I'ma pay whatever to get my brother home
Yeah-yeah, we got all these guns, it ain't no one on one
Yeah-yeah, we gon' come however niggas wanna come
Make that ass clap
Make that ass clap
Make that ass clap
Make that ass
