[Intro: Young Bull]
(What are you gonna do? Are you gonna kill me, Mr. J?)
Mm, nigga
[Verse 1: Young Bull]
Hit stick, a nigga put him on a stretcher
All my niggas play with tools, rock and roll, heavy metal
If it ain't about no money, then it ain't up on my schedule
If you can't under [?] me then you better grab a shovel
All these hundreds in a duffel, can't no nigga tell me nothin'
Blew a nigga face off for talkin' crazy in my comments
Thirty-two shots, [?] nickname Charles Barkley
In the coupe goin' crazy, I don't even know how to start it
Put him on a stretcher, better yet in a coffin
I'm outside every day, niggas never on shit
Boogeyman on your block, mini Drac, I keep a chop
Wockhardt in my cup, sippin' on exotic pop
[Verse 2: Ralfy the Plug]
Who's that creepin' in the foreign? It's the boogeyman
Sendin' bullets at his head 'til the fully jam
Only time you was in the bank gettin' money when you was scammin'
Not no blower, you'll get smacked down raw at the bitch [?] manor
Them niggas ain't really outside, they on Instagram
"Ralfy, put the blower away", it's just a fan
Like Divorce Court, we'll split his head
He work security for a bakery, he ain't gettin' no bread
Bitch, ain't nothin' for you to do except give me some head
You can't fuck with me, nigga, you must've bumped your head
Had his bitch in the backseat doin' what Ralfy says
None of you hoes was lookin' for me when I was in jail, the Plug
(What are you gonna do? Are you gonna kill me, Mr. J?)
Mm, nigga
[Verse 1: Young Bull]
Hit stick, a nigga put him on a stretcher
All my niggas play with tools, rock and roll, heavy metal
If it ain't about no money, then it ain't up on my schedule
If you can't under [?] me then you better grab a shovel
All these hundreds in a duffel, can't no nigga tell me nothin'
Blew a nigga face off for talkin' crazy in my comments
Thirty-two shots, [?] nickname Charles Barkley
In the coupe goin' crazy, I don't even know how to start it
Put him on a stretcher, better yet in a coffin
I'm outside every day, niggas never on shit
Boogeyman on your block, mini Drac, I keep a chop
Wockhardt in my cup, sippin' on exotic pop
[Verse 2: Ralfy the Plug]
Who's that creepin' in the foreign? It's the boogeyman
Sendin' bullets at his head 'til the fully jam
Only time you was in the bank gettin' money when you was scammin'
Not no blower, you'll get smacked down raw at the bitch [?] manor
Them niggas ain't really outside, they on Instagram
"Ralfy, put the blower away", it's just a fan
Like Divorce Court, we'll split his head
He work security for a bakery, he ain't gettin' no bread
Bitch, ain't nothin' for you to do except give me some head
You can't fuck with me, nigga, you must've bumped your head
Had his bitch in the backseat doin' what Ralfy says
None of you hoes was lookin' for me when I was in jail, the Plug
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