| Yo, Nick Papz, make it slap |
| Yeah |
| You gotta turn me up in the headphones some more, a little bit more |
| Turn me up Cruiz |
| So many motherfucking hundreds you gotta make a part two |
| I’m not in competition with my homies |
| I’m whippin' the competition and the Rollie |
| I know my opposition never knew me |
| They wouldn’t be opposition if they know me |
| I make the proportion to my hitters |
| I told them to knock me down if you owe me |
| I just been slidin' 'round, hittin' them, get 'em |
| We movin' with Glock, pounds and the .40s |
| Them niggas got shot down, we was whorin' |
| My homie a opp now, so we on him |
| I was like sixteen with the MAC on me |
| Deep in the field like it’s Pop Warner |
| Where did the shit scene niggas cracked on me |
| When it got real, tried to slide on him |
| I made some M’s, split the guys on 'em |
| We keepin' it real, niggas not |
| And my homie a savage, I put in a casket |
| And I’m mad at him 'cause he died on us |
| Just left his funeral and I told his momma |
| Every time that she cry, we gon' slide on 'em |
| I look you niggas right dead in the eyes |
| And I ain’t surprised you ain’t ridin' for us |
| How would you feel if you bust some mills with some niggas |
| And they switch side on you? How would you feel? |
| When you so lit that you can’t tell if the law real |
| If I can’t tell you nothin', I’ll tell you how Thug feel |
| And you ain’t rich nigga, your stash gon' pay my drug bill |
| Pussy |
| Nigga, this expensive pain, pullin' expensive Range |
| Now I got expensive chain |
| He got drug money (Yeah), that’s expensive game (Yeah) |
| I got expensive shooter (Yeah), he got expensive aim (Yeah) |
| You know it’s Lil Uzi, that’s an expensive name (Yeah) |
| I’m goin hard and my back to the wall |
| I was like Derek, just pumpin' and fakin' |
| There’s no way they matchin' me off |
| Who really gon' stick me and we gettin' busy |
| And we rappers when we ball |
| I won’t even brag this, I go triple platinum |
| And they said that was an award, eh |
| I switch my Rollie up to a Richard Millie |
| In the trenches with some young nigga |
| Tryna tell him how this rich shit really feel |
| You ain’t never been in the field with them late nights |
| Off Benadryl with them great whites locked in a cell |
| Like Shawshank, no redemption |
| I was richest nigga in the prison |
| I was strappin' up when niggas weren’t ridin' |
| I was the richest nigga on a mission |
| I was motivated, I watchin' moves |
| Yeah, the brokest nigga in the kitchen |
| I was chasin' million when they said I couldn’t |
| I was hard headed, I ain’t listen |
| Got a dad that never did |
| Now we all made it out the trenches, yeah |
| All of my money is new |
| All of my money is blue, riddle me this |
| I supposed to go get money, and keep doin' favors and give all my money to who? |
| You keep tellin' me niggas keep tellin' you what? |
| Why they be runnin' to you? |
| Why every time niggas talk about me and it’s bad |
| They keep comin' to you? |
| I never got that part |
| Nigga, know you my man |
| But every time you wanna talk bad 'bout me |
| They come to you and you come to me like lil' hoe ass nigga |
| I’ll slap the shit out you, fuck it |
| Woo |
| Hunnids on hunnids on hunnids on hunnids |
| My homie a opp, but he know how I rock |
| So you know that I’m ready, however he comin' |
| We done went up on these niggas like seventy-nothin' |
| They talkin' 'bout body, we talkin' 'bout millions |
| We talkin' bout money, they talkin' 'bout killin' |
| I gotta go to the bathroom soon as I walk in the building |
| You know how I’m livin |
| Walkin', I’m tuckin' and passin' the glizzy |
| Don’t look how I, you know I ain’t slippin' |
| Come to your trenches, its me and every one of my savage niggas, |
| you know I ain’t trippin' |
| And I can’t get extorted, I’m ballin' like Jordan |
| We slidin with twenty, we totin' and pimpin' |
| It’s fuck what niggas think |
| I just be laughin' to the bank |
| I done pulled up with the presidential on my wrist and this bitch it like |
| Hillary |
| I was just in the kitchen whippin' Hannah Montana like my name was Billy Ray |
| And I bet that I have me a hunnid million dollars on these niggas 'fore I be |
| twenty-eight |
| Love her back, when bitches wasn’t lovein' me |
| Twenty-thousand at best, she ain’t dumpin' me |
| I’m on point ain’t no bitch out here runnin' me |
| Lamborghini, the same color Bumblebee |
| Pull up Cullinan, same color, butter seats |
| In the game, ain’t no young nigga touchin' me |
| Yeah, she know that I’m the shit and she know that I’m rich |
| Every time that we fuck, she yell «nut in me» (Aye, Lil Uzi) |