[Verse 1: Westside Gunn]
Ayo Peace lord I heard you back on the block
[?] had the hammer he was up in the spot
I had your red bottoms walking on eggshells you got it
Six car garage all exotic
Four bad hoes all exotic
White stripes on the Off-White galoshes
Just Don shorts Supersonics
Get the one fives and tens let’s go shopping
Vera Wang famous
On a yacht speed racing
Chasing Ninos lifestyle bitches and cars
I’m a get richer give it all to my son
Each one teach one
Stay away from fuck niggas
And take care of your moms
[Verse 2: Benny]
[?] Off the chill
Buses chartered off the hill
That’s why daughters often tell
Stories how their fathers fail
They pulled me over
Riding dirty boof the work toss the L
Twelve called for backup and the dogs
When he caught the smell
I’m cut from a different cloth
It ain’t hard to tell
And then real niggas feel it
Like I wrote in all in Braille
Big Glock when that shit pop
It can park a whale
When my shit drop its gon’ be soundin’ like The Carter 12
Plan is to stuff the safe and then fade out quick
And get rich with the same ones
You states down with
Loyalty and trust is words we don’t play round with
If you swing then we gon’ slide on some playground shit
And niggas be dead broke trying to act like they up
How they just got in the game trying to act like they us
When my whole team was up trying to act like you broke
And want attention from those bitches
Or heat from them folks nah
It was never handed to me
Grinding was mandatory
I don’t got no game it’s just
These bitches understand my story
Speaking for people every time they put those cameras on me
Learned it from the game nah my momma never planned this for me
Pretty soon you gotta pick a side
Commit a crime get confined kill one of us and only get a fine
You hear this and probably get the vibe
Of 98 Kiss and Styles Reasonable Doubt Hov It Was Written Nas
These new niggas got too much fabrication
Not enough truth and too much imagination
I guess that’s where the game is now
I had to face it but I changed for the better
My nigga old habits breaking
You will never eat with a team full of dead weight
We don’t trust bitches or believe niggas handshakes
Fiends in the staircase bricks wrapped in red tape
Don’t know what’s coming first Jack boys or a Feds case
I stayed focus chain smoking kept my head straight
Whippin’ deuces for the Franck Muller with the fair ahhhhh….
