La Familia ​wifisfuneral & Robb Bank$

[Intro]
Hey Cris, fuck you!

[Chorus: Robb Bank$]
I got bands on me (Uh), beams on me (Uh)
Lean on me, do not lean on me (Uh)
See it on me (Uh), get it from me (Uh)
Thirty PT, this ain't NGP

[Verse 1: wifisfuneral]
Hol’ up, like cloud nine
I'm too high when I pass by
Like, why try?
I gotta kill my competition
Like a rid is on my bands that like five guys
You cross my back, well that's your life
That’s the moral I'm preaching
Snake niggas in the cut, cuttin' my grass so I'm peepin' (Woo)
I'm still ridin' Forgi's in the whip though, wit’ a freak hoe
Bend it low, if you down to go
Cool, tend it, bro
Cut shit like a butcher, this shit real smoke (Ayy)
I could blow that cancer up yo’ alley if you wit' though
Ayy, and if my dead man don’t trust you, well then it's fuck it (Uh huh)
And if I send my dead man right at you, you pick the bucket list (Huh)
And I can't pray for oppositions, I can't trust that shit
Okay, like, bitch, I’m up now, fuck next (Yeah)
Why the fuck I need to flex? (Yeah)
Yeah, I know that I'm the best (Yeah)
Tell yo' bitch to drop that neck (Yeah)
Took a vaca' on a jet (Yeah)
Hoe, you know that I am stressed (Yeah)
And these drugs make me a mess (Yeah)
Oh, you, oh, oh