(feat. Young Thug, T.I.P, Duke, Shad Da God & Lil Yachty)
[Intro - Young Thug:] Turn up with Lil Yachty Thugger, Thugger, baby Trouble Man, aka T.I.P., yeah Bankroll Mafia, YSL, Lil Duke, slat R.I.P. to Troupe
[Verse 1 - Young Thug:] You better run, we gon come for you My I.V. is red like thermometers I fuck on that bitch like a porn star Hit me up when I'm on tour I'm a unlock the card if you want it We gon fuck on that day that you bought it These lil niggas not eating, they boney Her best friend got her going and going
[Chorus - Young Thug:] I'm in a foreign car, she in another car I pull up to the job, I walk in her job And cum in her jaw like shotta Se pasa en mi casa Ain't looking over, I'm leaning over Your bitch want it, she fiening, homie I got stripes like a zebra, homie I'm laughing like a hyena, homie
[Verse 2 - T.I.:] I don't know where you get your facts at, nigga But you come in half-assed, I'm a max that nigga Catch is ass in my hood, I'm a tax that nigga If he run, give you ten if you catch that nigga You know you don't really want my crew to attack, nigga I'll fire ya ass up, you can ask that nigga Nah, I bet you'd rather that nigga Beefing all on Instagram and Snapchat with him Just yesterday I was a young crack dealer When the trap was slow I put it on the fast track, nigga And if an 8 take a shot, pass that nigga Set the world on fire, where your match at, nigga? A coup in Hustle Gang did thirty something million Another seven off of television, put that with it Now can you match that, nigga? And we ain't even talking bout my rap track, nigga I'm paid, fresh out the bank I make that lil money look less than you think Yeah you think you got more, ain't as much as you think When you see than I am everything that you ain't Like a stand-up guy and a real nigga Sucka ass nigga, don't deal with him I had a bunch of solid niggas standing with me in the trap Eighteen years later and I'm still with em
[Chorus]
[Verse 3 - Shad da God:] I love all my niggas, I ride for my homies They keep it one hunnid, can't lie to my homies Eating no turkey now, no b-bologna Still gaining weight and we bout to go touring We really rich niggas, we hop in the foreign Nigga you play and get shot by the morning Blat-blat-blat-blat-blat-blat-blat Spray a whole hundred shots with no warning Bales and them scales, before rap I was rich Still hit them blocks, all up in the dead end This a cold world, I've lost so many friends So many fakes, I don't want no more friends Stack all this money and count all the yams Used to move weight and ain't talking bout no gem Rubber band racks by the ten now Used to be broke, went from bucket to Benz
[Chorus]
[Verse 4 - Lil Yachty:] Spent the weight on my chain Don't you diss, speak on my name I'm the same nigga, ain't shit changed Never got far with the pussy nigga thing No we are not the same, stay in your lane These niggas leasing their rings, it ain't what you think This niggas acting like they're so hard Make a pussy nigga park my car All these pussy niggas try to sound like me Shit, they won't get too far Lil Boat
[Verse 5 - MPA Duke:] Ooh, mil, hundo Yellow, purp, that drank though Pull up on the set with a bitch so bad Every nigga want her back though My name known in the hood Like a mothafucking stop on a back door I don't even need no Bankroll Just get wet for the zeros Aww yeah, yeah, yeah Bankroll my Mafia I put on that Glock like Gaddafi, yeah I ride round, I'm juuging at 9 a.m., God! Bankroll my Mafia Bankroll my Mafia
[Chorus]Teksty umieszczone na naszej stronie są własnością wytwórni, wykonawców, osób mających do nich prawa.
