[Intro: Skeme]
Rest in peace, Dolla
[Verse 1: Skeme & DUBB]
Yeah, (Uh) still hustle for a dinner plate (No)
You ain't know how to be hard then lemme demonstrate (Ah) (Woo)
Pardon me while I ventilate (Hey)
It's money in the floor, but it's more money in the safe (Yeah)
I got it on me, homie—nah, I ain't finna play (Nah)
Shots fly while my brother played get-away (No)
I'm still talkin' 'bout guns and bitches
Like that ain't the reason that I done lost half of my niggas (Yeah)
Uh, I'm doin' my due diligence (Ah)
Tryna see millions, (Ah) I perform billions (Ah)
Dick, and resilient; (Ah) women screamin', schemin'
Say they love my music—oh, they never seen me on the TV, huh? (Aha)
Inglewood, what it's lookin' like? (Ah)
My nigga gone—made me take a different look at life (Yeah)
Yeah, feet planted on the curb
Screamin', "Fuck a bitch nigga!" Both hands punk a bird (Fuck 'em)
Lookin' like Pac, (Ah) tryna be sutn similar (Yeah)
Cut they hands off if them niggas ain't feelin' 'em (Ah)
Execution flow—every bar, bitch, I'm killin' 'em (Uh)
Fans, I be stealin' 'em; ain't nobody real as him (No)
Whether owe a third or you dog or you crew (What up?)
If you hustlin' by nature then this song's for you (What up?)
I don't give a fuck what they say is wrong to do
All of my motherfuckin' future don't belong to you (Yeah)
Fuck is wrong witchu? Do you know me, boy? (No)
Fuck the car—bitch, I keep a pistol on me, boy (Aha)
I'm the fuckin' main target, (Hey) no decoy
Ride out 'til I'm gone; I will not deploy (Aha)
Inglewood D-boy; (Yeah) you nothin' like me, boy (Nah)
Trap (Nah) to the rat, (Nah) hustlers (Nah) turned B-boy (Aha)
Uh, I say you nothin' like me, boy (Yeah)
Trap to the rat, (It's DUBB) hustlers turned B-boy (Go)
Rest in peace, Dolla
[Verse 1: Skeme & DUBB]
Yeah, (Uh) still hustle for a dinner plate (No)
You ain't know how to be hard then lemme demonstrate (Ah) (Woo)
Pardon me while I ventilate (Hey)
It's money in the floor, but it's more money in the safe (Yeah)
I got it on me, homie—nah, I ain't finna play (Nah)
Shots fly while my brother played get-away (No)
I'm still talkin' 'bout guns and bitches
Like that ain't the reason that I done lost half of my niggas (Yeah)
Uh, I'm doin' my due diligence (Ah)
Tryna see millions, (Ah) I perform billions (Ah)
Dick, and resilient; (Ah) women screamin', schemin'
Say they love my music—oh, they never seen me on the TV, huh? (Aha)
Inglewood, what it's lookin' like? (Ah)
My nigga gone—made me take a different look at life (Yeah)
Yeah, feet planted on the curb
Screamin', "Fuck a bitch nigga!" Both hands punk a bird (Fuck 'em)
Lookin' like Pac, (Ah) tryna be sutn similar (Yeah)
Cut they hands off if them niggas ain't feelin' 'em (Ah)
Execution flow—every bar, bitch, I'm killin' 'em (Uh)
Fans, I be stealin' 'em; ain't nobody real as him (No)
Whether owe a third or you dog or you crew (What up?)
If you hustlin' by nature then this song's for you (What up?)
I don't give a fuck what they say is wrong to do
All of my motherfuckin' future don't belong to you (Yeah)
Fuck is wrong witchu? Do you know me, boy? (No)
Fuck the car—bitch, I keep a pistol on me, boy (Aha)
I'm the fuckin' main target, (Hey) no decoy
Ride out 'til I'm gone; I will not deploy (Aha)
Inglewood D-boy; (Yeah) you nothin' like me, boy (Nah)
Trap (Nah) to the rat, (Nah) hustlers (Nah) turned B-boy (Aha)
Uh, I say you nothin' like me, boy (Yeah)
Trap to the rat, (It's DUBB) hustlers turned B-boy (Go)
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