On codeine we ain’t tryin’
We ain’t playin’ all that
Amber alert, blrrt, blrrt
Ha, nah, let me stop playin’, you know what I’m sayin’?
Stayed down for all of this shit
ARP, he callin’ it quits (Blrrt)
Walk down, get to doggin’ this shit
Blrrt, got shot in his joggers and shit
Told my ex bitch, “Jump off a cliff”
I want cheddar, look at the flicka da wrist
He better keep one up in his stick (Blrrt)
Court down bad like Money Mitch
But nah, I ain’t sell out no bricks
“Xan, why you keep slidin’? You better than this”
Fuck y’all, I ain’t takin’ lectures for shit
Lambo Urus, I speed this bitch
My shawty a 10, I’m the dream and shit
I saw her body drop, I’m dreamin’ shit
“Can I take your order?” On some Kenan shit
Make him disappear on some Jesus shit
Take me to another place, I got a Glock with the fan
HeyShootBaby off them Xans
ARP, I might crash
Hold up, they said they want the old Xan?
Pump shotgun that shoot back an old man
Shoot at my neighbor, I feel like Seth Rogan
Let me hit you raw and put down the Trojan
Bitch nigga always tryna fake
.45, bet a nigga won’t fake
I got juice in the cup, like Jay
Ayy, ayy, ayy, okay
More Life, he got hit with the Drac’
Shit goin’ down, we uppin’ the rate
You wanted the pounds, we ain’t givin’ you eight
My shooters, they look like soldiers ankle weight
Bitch wanna call my phone, you can wait
I’m a fat nigga with a choppa, I can race
In a church with the stick, oh, happy day
We rob the plug for the racks in the safe
Watch how I shoot, like J.R. Smith
You ain’t gettin’ P’s back, nah, you hit
Four-hundred K on some showoff shit
Walk in the store with some O-Dog shit
You niggas be gay, go off, bitch
My side bitch text me like, “No, he didn’t”
That not your stick, gun range you rented
Funny how a whole app gon’ make you missin’
Feed a bitch in her mouth like a baby pigeon
Before Corona, you better stay your distance
Keep a hammer on me, I can build you a kitchen
Bitch don’t know my name, then Google my image
How you do it in the street, but don’t do it in prison?
I call up Woog, we gon’ Uber some bitches
2012 got jumped in the new Helly Hansen
Put his ass in a box, now you Roddy Ricchin’
[?] look like the world of Guinness
Got both of my bitches like, “Girl, you trippin'”
Dawg cook up the crack, like swirl and cinnamon
I call up Shoot, you know he spin a Benz
I slide in a coupe, this is an infinite
I’m in Infinity
Backdoor move, we ain’t feeling his energy
Divide the shit I have, call it symmetry
That nigga dead, now he in a symmetry
I meant cemetery
Call in preliminaries
Check my dictionary
Niggas actin’ scary
I don’t fuck with y’all
Matter fact, I don’t fuck with none of y’all
HeyShootBaby, y’all see what’s goin’ on
I got a Glock in my drawers, hey
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