[Intro: Rx Papi]
They see me on the street, they don't know where to look
Lookin' at my neck, my wrist, my pocket
They don't know
[Verse: Rx Papi]
SpeedBump Curt, I got a bankroll
I walk in the bank when the bank closed
Cook a thirty-one with a blindfold
Crack a Dutch with my eyes closed
Pull up, meet me at the corner store
Twenty thousand stuffed in my Girbauds
SpeedBump Curt, yeah, there he go
I'm in this bitch eating blue Doritos, yeah, that's me
Scratch off in that coupe, doing high speeds
Sip the Wock', we get high as Jesus
My neck, wrist and ears and my fingers freezing
He say he sell dope, but I don't believe him
I drive this four-oh like it's a demon
Curt McGirt, hop out, the whip the cleanest
I can tell by my auntie's face, she really need it
Neighbors used to call me a lil' dirty heathen
I'm in the trap counting up for five hours a day
Three more to go, couldn't even shower today
Lil' cuz called me, said he got a play
Niggas from out of town want a half a brick of yay'
I'm Ice Cube in the pot, nigga, yeah, yeah
Compress that bitch, wrap it with duct tape
I wish I'd be able to see that nigga's face
When he tryna chop drywall on the plate
They like, "Goddamn, Curt, you did it again"
Came through in an Audi, shitted again
Saw him and his friends, shot at him and his friends
Bent the block and hit it again
I drink Wockeisha, not juice and gin
5.56 hittin' your chin
Jet Li Glock, this bitch got kick
That ho ain't duck, that bitch got hit
Jump out broad day, we don't miss
I throw a bullet better than Michael Vick
I'm riding for my dog like Michael Vick
Go to jail 'bout my dog like Michael Vick
I scramble in the pocket like Michael Vick
Could run fast as shit like Michael Vick
My arm strong as fuck like Michael Vick
I look in the mirror and say, "Curt, you the shit"
Two big speedbumps by my dick
I woke up like, "What I'm 'bout to buy my bitch?"
I ain't finna buy her no Prada shit
Even though I be proud of a lot of shit
She be getting in her feelings when I'm popping shit
Walk in Givenchy, just buying shit
When I'm in the trap, I feel like Demetrius
Glick on my hip all day and I sleep with it
I watch how I move, I'm always discrete with it
If you owe me money, you're better off keeping it
Your mama gon' need it to bury you with
Shooting up whatever cemetery you're in
We throwing bullets like Hail Marys and shit
Hit your casket and whoever carrying the shit
Everybody got a mask, Jim Carrey and shit
I shot his ass twice 'fore they buried the nigga
I think I'm Boosie Boo with all hundreds
Pop my shit, told the cameraman keep it running
If you find a fifty in these hundreds
I'll give five thousand to a junkie
They see me on the street, they don't know where to look
Lookin' at my neck, my wrist, my pocket
They don't know
[Verse: Rx Papi]
SpeedBump Curt, I got a bankroll
I walk in the bank when the bank closed
Cook a thirty-one with a blindfold
Crack a Dutch with my eyes closed
Pull up, meet me at the corner store
Twenty thousand stuffed in my Girbauds
SpeedBump Curt, yeah, there he go
I'm in this bitch eating blue Doritos, yeah, that's me
Scratch off in that coupe, doing high speeds
Sip the Wock', we get high as Jesus
My neck, wrist and ears and my fingers freezing
He say he sell dope, but I don't believe him
I drive this four-oh like it's a demon
Curt McGirt, hop out, the whip the cleanest
I can tell by my auntie's face, she really need it
Neighbors used to call me a lil' dirty heathen
I'm in the trap counting up for five hours a day
Three more to go, couldn't even shower today
Lil' cuz called me, said he got a play
Niggas from out of town want a half a brick of yay'
I'm Ice Cube in the pot, nigga, yeah, yeah
Compress that bitch, wrap it with duct tape
I wish I'd be able to see that nigga's face
When he tryna chop drywall on the plate
They like, "Goddamn, Curt, you did it again"
Came through in an Audi, shitted again
Saw him and his friends, shot at him and his friends
Bent the block and hit it again
I drink Wockeisha, not juice and gin
5.56 hittin' your chin
Jet Li Glock, this bitch got kick
That ho ain't duck, that bitch got hit
Jump out broad day, we don't miss
I throw a bullet better than Michael Vick
I'm riding for my dog like Michael Vick
Go to jail 'bout my dog like Michael Vick
I scramble in the pocket like Michael Vick
Could run fast as shit like Michael Vick
My arm strong as fuck like Michael Vick
I look in the mirror and say, "Curt, you the shit"
Two big speedbumps by my dick
I woke up like, "What I'm 'bout to buy my bitch?"
I ain't finna buy her no Prada shit
Even though I be proud of a lot of shit
She be getting in her feelings when I'm popping shit
Walk in Givenchy, just buying shit
When I'm in the trap, I feel like Demetrius
Glick on my hip all day and I sleep with it
I watch how I move, I'm always discrete with it
If you owe me money, you're better off keeping it
Your mama gon' need it to bury you with
Shooting up whatever cemetery you're in
We throwing bullets like Hail Marys and shit
Hit your casket and whoever carrying the shit
Everybody got a mask, Jim Carrey and shit
I shot his ass twice 'fore they buried the nigga
I think I'm Boosie Boo with all hundreds
Pop my shit, told the cameraman keep it running
If you find a fifty in these hundreds
I'll give five thousand to a junkie
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