1400

Yeah, yeah

They pride way too high, I might just give that boy a shell

But we don't give a fuck, think shit sweet, don't press your luck

We keep that chopper, knuckle up unless your family, friends or blood

You know this shit be going up, we got fifty going up

I got bitches going up, so I'm in the whip doin' doughnuts

These niggas know I'm with the shits, man, you know I'm poppin' shit

Man, you know I'm on my big dog, big poppa shit

If you want war with us, then we pull up sockin' shit

Yeah, hit 'em, huh, yeah, I had to bop the bitch

Pull up rockin' shit like a motherfuckin' band

I got my feet up in the sand, I'm at the beach with a bitch

She Sandy Cheeks, I'm Dirty Dan

I'm smokin' out the P, remember I couldn't even buy a gram

Speakin' of the beach, I keep that heat

Lil' bitch, don't catch a tan

Catch 'em in the street and let it fly, that boy turned Peter Pan

Saw my opp at Walmart, I swear for god he was a fan

And I been the biggest bird, bitch, I'm falcon when I land

Haa, huh, I just pulled up in a big body

Baby girl off the Molly, Prada my feet, don't want no Versace

I catch me a opp, put holes in his body

Ten bitches geekin' up in the lobby

Diamonds on me, babe, you know I'ma have it

Huh, hold on where?

Baby give me head

When I catch a opp, I swear to god, yeah he be dead

And I'm with Trippie and you know he bang that red

I can't hang with suckers 'cause they talkin' to the feds

Huh, hold on

Richard Millie cost a house

'Cago nigga, I come from the south

Remember them days I had to sleep on the couch

That more money, like "Blaow"

Get to the money, M&Ms

Can't be in my section, them boys is not having it

I pulled up in a Bentley, no Benz

I wanna fuck me a friend

Dexter

I told my baby, like, "I really like you and I'm talk

Like, I really do like you, um

What's seven plus seven? 14, right?"

Trippie talk to 'em

Fuck it (yeah)

Prices goin' up

Bitches goin' up

How can I fall off, when all my money goin' up?

Birkin on my bitch and for my wrist a couple bucks

Pour lean in the red cup

I'm pouring the racks up

I can't leave without my baby

Bitch, yeah, that's my chopper

You don't want no smoke 'cause they gon' pull up, red dot 'em

They gon' roll 'em up

Drugs going up

Tesla for my bitches, all my hoes be going up

I might pull up in a Lamb, like all my doors be going up

Bought the bro some Eliantte, ain't nobody cold as us

Made another forty milly, I gave lil' bro a cut

I might drop like thirty racks and have your ho to pick 'em up