[Verse 1: Comethazine]
Claim he gon' get me, claim he gon' rush me
We outside your spot now, nigga, time to get ugly
Have him shitting in his pants, nigga, pass him a Huggie
Choppa bullets make him dance, look, he hitting his Dougie
Catch him lacking, do your thang, then clean up the spot
'Cause who gon' leave some evidence? Nigga, I'm not
I paid a hundred for the Forces, now there's blood on the bottom
Finna hit the Foot Locker, bitch, I'm not finna wash 'em
She said ever since you got rich you act like a dick
Nah, bitch, that ain't it, I just cannot trust a bitch
Man, they think I got a problem 'cause I smoke out the pound
Shit, I'll roll up 'round you niggas and won't pass it around
And if a nigga got a problem, bitch, I got the four pound
.38 put eight bullets in and spin it around
Put a potato on the barrel, bitch, it won't make a sound
Shoot a nigga like a layup but I'm laying him down, gang
[Verse 2: Roddy Ricch]
Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, hey
Fuck all that talkin', let's do it, I keep me a ruler
Bitch, I grew up with the shooters, slidin' in the back of the red with the roof up
I got all white diamonds, Ku Klux, my bitch be naggin' too much
Make it rain in Magic too much, I don't wear my Patek too much
I be really, really, really gettin' pissed off
Wear my Fendi even like my shirt look pissed off, yeah
I got expensive habits, huh, Ace of Spades when I'm thirsty
Plug lemme get it dirt cheap, we gon' pull up to the club thirty deep, ayy
Spent ten racks on my dog, nigga, that bitch gon' alert me
Ayy, made it out the trap, when it touchdown, my dog gon' chirp me, hmm
Knew how to whip it 'fore I walked inside the first grade
Knocked it out the park, I got rich off of first grade
It's rich, yeah, yeah, yeah
Claim he gon' get me, claim he gon' rush me
We outside your spot now, nigga, time to get ugly
Have him shitting in his pants, nigga, pass him a Huggie
Choppa bullets make him dance, look, he hitting his Dougie
Catch him lacking, do your thang, then clean up the spot
'Cause who gon' leave some evidence? Nigga, I'm not
I paid a hundred for the Forces, now there's blood on the bottom
Finna hit the Foot Locker, bitch, I'm not finna wash 'em
She said ever since you got rich you act like a dick
Nah, bitch, that ain't it, I just cannot trust a bitch
Man, they think I got a problem 'cause I smoke out the pound
Shit, I'll roll up 'round you niggas and won't pass it around
And if a nigga got a problem, bitch, I got the four pound
.38 put eight bullets in and spin it around
Put a potato on the barrel, bitch, it won't make a sound
Shoot a nigga like a layup but I'm laying him down, gang
[Verse 2: Roddy Ricch]
Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, hey
Fuck all that talkin', let's do it, I keep me a ruler
Bitch, I grew up with the shooters, slidin' in the back of the red with the roof up
I got all white diamonds, Ku Klux, my bitch be naggin' too much
Make it rain in Magic too much, I don't wear my Patek too much
I be really, really, really gettin' pissed off
Wear my Fendi even like my shirt look pissed off, yeah
I got expensive habits, huh, Ace of Spades when I'm thirsty
Plug lemme get it dirt cheap, we gon' pull up to the club thirty deep, ayy
Spent ten racks on my dog, nigga, that bitch gon' alert me
Ayy, made it out the trap, when it touchdown, my dog gon' chirp me, hmm
Knew how to whip it 'fore I walked inside the first grade
Knocked it out the park, I got rich off of first grade
It's rich, yeah, yeah, yeah
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