[Intro]
Hahahaha, Nick, you're stupid
[Verse 1: DDG & Morray]
Whole lotta of my old homies didn't make it here
Gotta stay strapped and be ready if we take it there
Life's short, but this clip is longer than Jamaican hair
Never have I claimed to be a gangster but it's safer here (Yeah)
Put this pistol in my hand, I'm protectin' all these bands (Baow)
They be fuckin' up the brand when I lend a helpin' hand (Baow)
So I gotta be alone, make the money on my own
If it's smoke then meet me man to man, nigga fuck it's on (Lеt's go)
Now we live in luxury, that shit just a summary
In the linе of fire, trust my brother he gon' cover me (Fye)
Internet trolls and the critics really under me
Had to realize they only poppin' just because of me, they stressin' me
But my bitch be trippin', she be testin' me
I don't know that bitch, it ain't my fault that she be textin' me
Why you just can't cook, give me kiss, then have sex with me? (Baow)
Then you get upset when I'm annoyed and give you less of me, fuck
I don't know, what the fuck that I'ma do with you
I know you stabbed me in my back, but I'm still cool with you
'Cause when it comin' to the racks, they don't know who is who (Who?)
Niggas switch up for the dollars
I be tryin' to be positive with the drama
It be constantly following, on my momma
But I guess it's the side effects of the commas, gang
Hahahaha, Nick, you're stupid
[Verse 1: DDG & Morray]
Whole lotta of my old homies didn't make it here
Gotta stay strapped and be ready if we take it there
Life's short, but this clip is longer than Jamaican hair
Never have I claimed to be a gangster but it's safer here (Yeah)
Put this pistol in my hand, I'm protectin' all these bands (Baow)
They be fuckin' up the brand when I lend a helpin' hand (Baow)
So I gotta be alone, make the money on my own
If it's smoke then meet me man to man, nigga fuck it's on (Lеt's go)
Now we live in luxury, that shit just a summary
In the linе of fire, trust my brother he gon' cover me (Fye)
Internet trolls and the critics really under me
Had to realize they only poppin' just because of me, they stressin' me
But my bitch be trippin', she be testin' me
I don't know that bitch, it ain't my fault that she be textin' me
Why you just can't cook, give me kiss, then have sex with me? (Baow)
Then you get upset when I'm annoyed and give you less of me, fuck
I don't know, what the fuck that I'ma do with you
I know you stabbed me in my back, but I'm still cool with you
'Cause when it comin' to the racks, they don't know who is who (Who?)
Niggas switch up for the dollars
I be tryin' to be positive with the drama
It be constantly following, on my momma
But I guess it's the side effects of the commas, gang
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