Mafia, what else (where we at wit' it?) 2-2-7 (Gang) Let’s get it (Ugh) Ran up a check on the outskirts, stacks all in my insoles Touring like a concert with them beans, I ain’t talking pintos Base rentals in the bike lane, stayed down, I was ten toes Only ate with my bloodline, Wuz and Nutty throwing big ‘bows (Yeah) On the east, 24 carat, Cutty throwing up big fours (Wow) On the outs, balling on a budget, **** it, I’ma get them bricks sold In the kitchen with the Alchemist, cooking up, I’m in mix mode (Boldy) Wrist cold when I spin it up, niggas tinted up, but I’m fishbowl Niggas tinted up, but I’m fishbowl Keep that coke swimming in a fishbowl This that 20/20 Pyrex vision on the list, though (Work) Nigga say he burnin' up the turnpike, got me like "Which road?" Now the Rollie bust-bust, I ain’t talking Flipmode Said he on the 6-4, told him, “Meet me at the Citgo” On 7 and Littlefield, pint of Hi-Tech and a scrip of pills Bitches know I got the juice, niggas know it’s been the drill (Uh-huh) Niggas whipping Robitussin (What?) mixing it with Benadryl Get a brick of blow and cut it, hit it with the fentanyl Baby bottle spoiled up, I ain’t talking Enfamil (At all) If it ain’t sealed up, I’ma up-strick a deal (Up strap) ‘Fore I had a record deal, I was really in the field (You already know) For a little bit, enough, I could get a nigga spilled (Whoa) ‘Fore I had a fanbase, I was selling tan flakes Rakin' in the cash, tryna make sure that my mans straight (My guys) Now everybody breaking bags, shook all of that dead weight Upgraded my stash, shaking that bag like I landscape (Been working) My lil’ brother SK, gotta fight a fed case Whole lot of gang shit, and that’s without the handshakes (Ugh) Ran up a check on the outskirts, stacks all in my insoles Touring like a concert with them beans, I ain’t talking pintos Base rentals in the bike lane, stayed down, I was ten toes Only ate with my bloodline, Wuz and Nutty throwing big ‘bows On the east, 24 carat, Cutty throwing up big fours (Wow) On the outs, balling on a budget, **** it, I’ma get them bricks sold In the kitchen with the Alchemist, cooking up, I’m in mix mode (Boldy) Wrist cold when I spin it up, niggas tinted up, but I’m fishbowl (Mafia) Playing with them Icks out in Frisco (San Fran) Now we up dog shit I was just on Skid Row Marching up Boylen, contra moved back to Jethro Two phones slamming, off a Virgin Mobile and a Getro Snatching up niggas custies, scale kinda dusty While y’all niggas in the county working for the police like a trustee Forty-three AMG, it’s Ali on the MP Alley-oop, it’s only us, but it’s really just me Skinny nigga, 6’3”, dining in at the Whitney Dream cruising up Woodward, candy paint, ’96 MB I been in the streets so long, shit, I’m dehydrated and exhausted On them hot blocks off of Martha, cold water running out the faucet Finna make it through the bullfrog, shit could take or it could fall I can press play, I can push pause with that mini-Drac’ and that bulldog Traffic in the tri-state level, bad bitch with a pie-face Now them hundreds stuck together like flypape'
[00:00.40] [00:04.00]Mafia, what else (where we at wit' it?) [00:07.56]2-2-7 (Gang) [00:10.81]Let’s get it (Ugh) [00:12.06]Ran up a check on the outskirts, stacks all in my insoles [00:14.81]Touring like a concert with them beans, I ain’t talking pintos [00:17.85]Base rentals in the bike lane, stayed down, I was ten toes [00:20.73]Only ate with my bloodline, Wuz and Nutty throwing big ‘bows (Yeah) [00:23.81]On the east, 24 carat, Cutty throwing up big fours (Wow) [00:26.85]On the outs, balling on a budget, **** it, I’ma get them bricks sold [00:29.81]In the kitchen with the Alchemist, cooking up, I’m in mix mode (Boldy) [00:32.81]Wrist cold when I spin it up, niggas tinted up, but I’m fishbowl [00:35.81]Niggas tinted up, but I’m fishbowl [00:40.40]Keep that coke swimming in a fishbowl [00:42.44]This that 20/20 Pyrex vision on the list, though (Work) [00:44.90]Nigga say he burnin' up the turnpike, got me like "Which road?" [00:48.02]Now the Rollie bust-bust, I ain’t talking Flipmode [00:50.69]Said he on the 6-4, told him, “Meet me at the Citgo” [00:53.90]On 7 and Littlefield, pint of Hi-Tech and a scrip of pills [00:56.90]Bitches know I got the juice, niggas know it’s been the drill (Uh-huh) [01:00.15]Niggas whipping Robitussin (What?) mixing it with Benadryl [01:02.65]Get a brick of blow and cut it, hit it with the fentanyl [01:05.85]Baby bottle spoiled up, I ain’t talking Enfamil (At all) [01:08.94]If it ain’t sealed up, I’ma up-strick a deal (Up strap) [01:11.90]‘Fore I had a record deal, I was really in the field (You already know) [01:14.85]For a little bit, enough, I could get a nigga spilled (Whoa) [01:18.06]‘Fore I had a fanbase, I was selling tan flakes [01:20.77]Rakin' in the cash, tryna make sure that my mans straight (My guys) [01:23.94]Now everybody breaking bags, shook all of that dead weight [01:26.85]Upgraded my stash, shaking that bag like I landscape (Been working) [01:29.94]My lil’ brother SK, gotta fight a fed case [01:32.90]Whole lot of gang shit, and that’s without the handshakes (Ugh) [01:35.73]Ran up a check on the outskirts, stacks all in my insoles [01:38.77]Touring like a concert with them beans, I ain’t talking pintos [01:41.77]Base rentals in the bike lane, stayed down, I was ten toes [01:44.81]Only ate with my bloodline, Wuz and Nutty throwing big ‘bows [01:47.85]On the east, 24 carat, Cutty throwing up big fours (Wow) [01:50.56]On the outs, balling on a budget, **** it, I’ma get them bricks sold [01:53.94]In the kitchen with the Alchemist, cooking up, I’m in mix mode (Boldy) [01:56.94]Wrist cold when I spin it up, niggas tinted up, but I’m fishbowl (Mafia) [01:59.90]Playing with them Icks out in Frisco (San Fran) [02:03.10]Now we up dog shit I was just on Skid Row [02:06.02]Marching up Boylen, contra moved back to Jethro [02:08.94]Two phones slamming, off a Virgin Mobile and a Getro [02:11.90]Snatching up niggas custies, scale kinda dusty [02:14.90]While y’all niggas in the county working for the police like a trustee [02:17.94]Forty-three AMG, it’s Ali on the MP [02:20.73]Alley-oop, it’s only us, but it’s really just me [02:24.11]Skinny nigga, 6’3”, dining in at the Whitney [02:26.85]Dream cruising up Woodward, candy paint, ’96 MB [02:30.02]I been in the streets so long, shit, I’m dehydrated and exhausted [02:32.94]On them hot blocks off of Martha, cold water running out the faucet [02:35.90]Finna make it through the bullfrog, shit could take or it could fall [02:38.94]I can press play, I can push pause with that mini-Drac’ and that bulldog [02:41.90]Traffic in the tri-state level, bad bitch with a pie-face [02:44.98]Now them hundreds stuck together like flypape'
