[Intro]
(Beat that motherfucker up, Quad)
[Verse]
All I know is stuntin', ballin' on niggas, bitch, get used to it
This ain't that Diddy-Bop-shake-your-ass shit, this that goon music
I'ma keep gettin' money and fuckin' shit over, bitch, get used to it
My ballin' make the bitch uncomfortable, she ain't used to it
She dig the way I'm livin', so she bringin' me blues in
Every time I get the bag, I start doin' my cool dance
Why go against the team if you know you gon' lose again?
I told gang, "It's time to play ball", they said, "Where?" the losers in
Hang with the opps, you an opp, I don't care if you went to school with them
Gang and them lookin' at your goons like the next victim of J
Addicted to Plug in the booth 'cause I'm spittin' crack
I don't think nobody better than me at spittin' facts
Could've been a doctor or a lawyer, but I was gettin' racks
I don't even remember the last time I used a pen and pad
He mad 'cause he used the last loaf that was in his stash
I can show you how to get some money, just attend my class
That EDD ballin' is so in the past
Everybody had racks, but who made it last?
I feel like Weezy F. Baby, it's the return of the masters
They like, "What you do to the booth, Ralfy? It's a disaster"
I'm a full-time street nigga when I'm not bein' a rapper
I dog elite bitches, I'm not one of them cappers
Back to back off the dome talkin' shit that's factual
I ain't arguin' niggas that's not in my tax bracket
Bitch got my number stored in her phone as the "back cracker"
If you was tryna be a street nigga, you're a bad actor
She wouldn't put no money in your offering 'cause you're a bad pastor
You would do whatever for the bitch, we know your type
I said what I said, bitch, I don't give a fuck if she right
Gave me a ten-piece and slimed me up all in one night
You still ain't got no money, you've been workin' your whole life
I just did a whole mixtape in one night
No rap cap, I keep an F&N in my backpack
So back back if you don't want another hole in your snap back
I got rack racks and you said too much in your rap facts
How you a grown-ass man and your life still a class act?
Bitch, if you ain't got no head and bread, I'ma need you to back back
He and gang and them a dub, they turnin' into Mad Max
Where the opps go? Check the toe tag bags
I can tell he gon' return his fits, he showin' a cash tag
(Beat that motherfucker up, Quad)
[Verse]
All I know is stuntin', ballin' on niggas, bitch, get used to it
This ain't that Diddy-Bop-shake-your-ass shit, this that goon music
I'ma keep gettin' money and fuckin' shit over, bitch, get used to it
My ballin' make the bitch uncomfortable, she ain't used to it
She dig the way I'm livin', so she bringin' me blues in
Every time I get the bag, I start doin' my cool dance
Why go against the team if you know you gon' lose again?
I told gang, "It's time to play ball", they said, "Where?" the losers in
Hang with the opps, you an opp, I don't care if you went to school with them
Gang and them lookin' at your goons like the next victim of J
Addicted to Plug in the booth 'cause I'm spittin' crack
I don't think nobody better than me at spittin' facts
Could've been a doctor or a lawyer, but I was gettin' racks
I don't even remember the last time I used a pen and pad
He mad 'cause he used the last loaf that was in his stash
I can show you how to get some money, just attend my class
That EDD ballin' is so in the past
Everybody had racks, but who made it last?
I feel like Weezy F. Baby, it's the return of the masters
They like, "What you do to the booth, Ralfy? It's a disaster"
I'm a full-time street nigga when I'm not bein' a rapper
I dog elite bitches, I'm not one of them cappers
Back to back off the dome talkin' shit that's factual
I ain't arguin' niggas that's not in my tax bracket
Bitch got my number stored in her phone as the "back cracker"
If you was tryna be a street nigga, you're a bad actor
She wouldn't put no money in your offering 'cause you're a bad pastor
You would do whatever for the bitch, we know your type
I said what I said, bitch, I don't give a fuck if she right
Gave me a ten-piece and slimed me up all in one night
You still ain't got no money, you've been workin' your whole life
I just did a whole mixtape in one night
No rap cap, I keep an F&N in my backpack
So back back if you don't want another hole in your snap back
I got rack racks and you said too much in your rap facts
How you a grown-ass man and your life still a class act?
Bitch, if you ain't got no head and bread, I'ma need you to back back
He and gang and them a dub, they turnin' into Mad Max
Where the opps go? Check the toe tag bags
I can tell he gon' return his fits, he showin' a cash tag
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