Stop Signs & Yields

Royal House on the beat
227
Two-way, deuce, siete
It's mafia, what else?
Jack God, where we at?
227
Gang time

Bro just got caught with the strig, told me, "Keep cranking"
Weed straight and the spig got my feet stanking
Just bought my bitch a brand new AP and like three anklets (ay)
Now every night, a nigga sleep in Louis V blankets (where we at?)

Double G's on my sneaks like a Freemason (uh-huh)
Shit, if you waiting on me to fall off, tell 'em, "Keep waiting" (it's the Jackson)
Thumbing through eight hundred thou', I caught a money cramp (big racks)
How I be racking, niggas think I got a money plant (where we at?)

Couple creatures down in the feds, you know they run the camp
Twenty bad bitches running through the crib, look like the bunny ranch (ay, ay)
Most of the time niggas see me, I be on my doley (uh-huh)
Get just what you looking for, for niggas thinking that they know me (hop out)
What else?

These niggas know the verdict (uh-huh)
A closed mouth don't get fed when it's an open murder (what else?)
Nah, for real, gotta keep it on my person
'Cause I see death around that corner
And I know she flirtin' (see death around that corner)

Bitch been on my heels and I've been in the field (been on my heels)
Running stop signs and yields, selling dope and curtain
On the phone talkin' in code, I hit the road and merch it (where we at?)
Now I'm in the back of the 'Bach, finna close the curtain, let's get it

I'm burning good dodie, kush on me
How to cook raw, shit damn near cooked brodie
Real trench coat, hood like Columbine on the 6
I'm Ty Dolla $ign with this shit
The way these niggas put the hook on me (drug zone)

Titi know her nephy the one, she need a small seven
Selling like seven different drugs and she do all seven (where we at?)
Just ask Streets the last time when he talked to Tadoe
Catchin' pints for eighteen hundred and I ain't talking Quavo

Takin' off on dog catcher while the dog fetch 'em (ay)
Forgiatos on my shuttle, I had to offset 'em
Custy waitin' at Wendy's, another one at Tubby's (uh)
Youngin ran off on me, I ain't seen him in a month of Sundays, let's get it

These niggas know the verdict (uh-huh)
A closed mouth don't get fed when it's an open murder (what else?)
Nah, for real, gotta keep it on my person
'Cause I see death around that corner
And I know she flirtin' (see death around that corner)

Bitch been on my heels and I've been in the field (been on my heels)
Running stop signs and yields, selling dope and curtain
On the phone talkin' in code, I hit the road and merch it (where we at?)
Now I'm in the back of the 'Bach, finna close the curtain, let's get it