DHL Molly Santana

[Intro]
Yeah, let's go (Yeah)
Come on (Yeah)

[Verse]
You know they workin' with Molly
I get them racks in and [?]
Packs in, [?]
I know why you do the most
You only win when you do the most
Can't settle 'round like these lame men
He just gotta' [?], talk 'bout the gun
These bitches so broke, can't even buy themselves gum (That's sad)
I've been countin' up, I need a new thumb
Got a bad bitch, say she got a [?]
[?], you're my son and [?]
Pray to the sky, every Sunday sun
[?] the Lord, that I'm one of one
Try to copy, but I be catchin' on
[?], like a fucking [?]
That's what they is, dummy
I am where I'm supposed to be
I get it bigger than locally
Can't just settle 'round just smoking weed
Yeah nigga, like totally
My stats goin' up globally
I'm rocking Rick, yeah, totally
Yeah, but not now, no
These niggas can't understand
How I count, all these bands
I'm heatin' up, gettin' fans
My taste exquisite, never bland
And I keep working, like I'm a [?] (Yeah)
And if you see her with me, just know she [?]
Yeah, like, that's my [?]
And your bitch so annoying, she a walkin' cramp (Shut the fuck up)
She a walkin' tramp
Say she want some Molly, yeah, I'm [?]
And these bitches [?]
Like damn, these bitches so burned out
If we catch yall talkin', yall get blammed
That shit [?] like some [?]
Talkin' down, he a dead man
Yall full of them dead men
His pockets empty, oh damn, damn
Can't even pay your own rent
When his momma, [?], he frantic (Huh)
Damn, son
You ain't on the type of shit I've been on