| If being filthy rich is a crime |
| I guess I’m guilty bitch |
| I guess I’m guilty bitch |
| I killed the rap and last night |
| I pleaded self-defense |
| I guess I’m guilty bitch |
| I guess I’m guilty bitch |
| These suckas talking nonsense |
| I killed your homeboy |
| Cause I don’t have a conscience |
| I’m strapped like Bronson |
| Brick Squad, Trap House, beat bunking |
| I’m wild like Tarzan |
| I’m swinging through the Zone 6 |
| In Ferraris. It’s on again |
| I go to win, strap-for-strap |
| I go rap for rap, I rep the trap |
| Refuse the death but game to slap |
| My phone is tapped |
| I’m off the wall and off the scale |
| Came out of jail like |
| A bat out of hell |
| I refuse to pay up, gotta salute the myth |
| Got Clientele, I might as well |
| I’m moving weight from state-to-state |
| I gots to get my aconchelet (?) |
| I know the feds be watching me |
| But there ain’t no way they stopping me |
| Drop a pack off to my lawyer |
| Take these charges, overturn em |
| Roll the kush in my trial papers |
| And burn em — I’m not going |
| The fork in it and my Glock showing |
| If it don’t shine then it’s not glowing |
| Ain’t mine if it’s not foreign |
| Broke ho — bitch you not knowing! |
| They was rap touring I was behind the bus |
| With packs for em |
| Didn’t plan on digging this up |
| But I need a shovel |
| Good looking, Gucci got me back |
| I’m trying to buy another |
| Pounds of mid and my college bitch’s |
| House neighbors complaining about the smell |
| They got her kicked out |
| They popping down to the last pill |
| In Cashville |
| I’m getting it fast still, on the real |
| I feel it |