PACKS The Underachievers

[Intro]
Hello

[Verse 1: Issa Gold]
Backseat, ridin' with the Treys right by me
That'll turn that nigga to a ghost (YDNA)
Ain't no love in my city, straight drugs in my city
Niggas walk around this shit, no hope
Gotta keep the gang here with me, and they thang hold fifty
Niggas run up, they ain't want no smoke
Nigga had the cash out, silly, bought the bag out with me
Nigga tryna stack, show you how it go
Follow my eyes, shit gon' be right on the prize
Repping the set with the gods
Split up them pods
Run up a check to get high
Fuck it, my nigga, we grind
Out of my mind, most of these niggas is lying
All of my shit a design
Look at me shine, nigga might hit a few lines
Then I might bang on your dime
You wit' a hoe
You do me, Peter Pan, four in my liter, man
Repping the coast
All of my hitters bang, run up and get your man
Word to my bros
Flexing on Instagram, made over insta-fame
Blowing my dope
Punching up insta-bands, blue face, that crippin' gang
Taking those shorts
Jedi, I came with the force
Roll up and spark up the torch
Enter the corpse, pour out some liquor for cuz
This for the niggas we lost
Don't trap on the corner, killers is in the town
Nigga not duckin' rounds
Fuck with the growers, hit me you need your loud
Shipping, you get your pounds