[Verse 1: Quilly]

Drop back to back, no chill button

Murder these rappers, I'ma kill somethin'

I was on house arrest; still buzzin'

You can put a ring on her, and, she still fuckin'

How niggas' strapped down and they're still runnin'?

Fucked money up, got back, still stuntin'

You in line waiting on the new J's, J's on my line

I ain't sleep in 2 days

Got your lil' bitch on me, I'm your boo fav

Go head and tell your grandma, I'm the new wave

I could put you on your feet, put you on game

You be wit a 100 niggas and, they're all lame

If your money fold, that's small change

Niggas' livin' wit they're mom, buying Balmain

Check these niggas', I got too

Don't shoot me, shoot the niggas' that shot you

Keep the FN just to calm my nerves

A-Town voice, better calm your bird

Said she wanna chill but, I kindly curve

Sippin' on the lean, so i slightly swerved

Kick in your door wit Balenciagas or my Margielas

You thought they was Pradas

I get hot and hotter, my coka proper, add some Baking Soda

Stretch like Alibaba

Gained a lil weight but, a nigga still flexin'

Fake watch buster, come and check my VVS's

Rollie on deck, On Dek on my necklace

Here to catch wreck if you niggas' act reckless

On your mark, get set, ya'll ain't ready yet?

This is what happen when you put a nigga on a Jet

From the jects, flow outta space like the Jetson's

Spaceship, wit the top back; George Jefferson

Nigga rattin', hangin' in your hood, and, your lettin' em

Not me, I'm checkin' em, swish cheese, checkin' em

100 on your head, you're a lil' nigga

You ain't got more heart than my lil' niggas'

Hitter masked up, he my Mascot

That's a new car sittin' in the glass pot

Fuck a ladder, all I need is 1 shot, when your in the Spital

All the fun stop

Breakin' up the work like Chop Shop

My old head got rich off of one block

Get a few million, that's lord willin'

Make her catch the bus so she don't catch feelins'

Work in the floor, guns in the ceilin'

Cops run in here, whole house gettin' sentenced

O-Dog; I'ma Menace, niggas' always start shit that they can't finish

I done seen work, shed no tears

You a scared nigga, shootin' outta fear



[Verse 2: Spade-O]

You want beef? We can have it here

Doors on the McLaren, whip look like it got Rabbit ears

You see, we don't do the chatter here, it don't really matter here

Your blood could get splattered here

My youngin' had a face full of tatted tears

Now, we got years, cuz a couple niggas' ratted here

They goin' up faster and faster

Sent to the moon like they work for NASA

Clowns in the town, they know homie not playin'

They might come around but, homie not stayin'

Uh, apply the full court pressure, fresh outta court

The Glock 40 on the dresser

I take heat to all the hot spots

Cookin' in the kitchen, half the Chicken in the Croc pot

A quarter Mill in a lock box, she might ride the dick

But, she'll never wheel the drop top

Bitch, I don't have half a holla, you see my kicks

Cost a half a dollar

These ain't MJ's or ballin' sneaks, they LV or Balmain sneaks

See, we all can eat, a couple points for my side dishes

Your main joints, they my side bitches

You wanna eat, you can ride wit us

You wanna beef, then, collide wit us

Uh, On Dek is who I'm ridin' for

They new wave got em jumpin' off the diving board