Outro

Yeah
State the facts, just state the lie 'bout
Suckers speakin' on me but they hidin' now
Two twin 30s when I'm slidin' out
Family over everything and that's the shit I die 'bout
Young nigga with a lot of hunns
Young nigga tote a lot of guns

Ayy
State the facts, just state the lie 'bout
Suckers speakin' on me but they hidin' now

Two twin 30s when I'm slidin' out
Family over everything and that's the shit I die 'bout
Young nigga with a lot of hunns

Young nigga tote a lot of guns

Glock fully split the whole drum
Caught him lackin' broad day, faded, that's the whole hunn
A bitch in my gang, you couldn't name one
And when it come to these hoes, we fuck the same ones
Made past mistakes and I don't blame none
Lurkin' for them niggas, on God, I'm tryna flame somethin'
I got these niggas in the house like when the rain comin'
Niggas burpin' 'bout them bodies, never flame nothin'

You ain't 'bout it, bitch, you ain't rearrange nothin'
Hit his block with this K, had his whole gang runnin', yeah
Hit his soft spot, make him hurt again

Bitch, you can get peeled for that work again
Laugh now, cry later, word to his kin
Send hot shit to his body out this F&N
You hella hard on IG, I know your type
You wasn't ever in the fields, you ain't 'bout that life
You could pray for them niggas but I don't believe the hype
You must forgot I know your bitch ass in real life
Ayy, when I slide, I'ma slide and I'ma do it right

Catch him lackin', Snapchatting, sittin' at the light

My young nigga to the right love that 30 pipe
And he won't hesitate to put it in a nigga life
Ayy, where you at? Where I'm at? Bitch, I'm in the trap
Thumbin' through a bag, mini lap, yeah, it's on my lap
Two bad bitches in the back weighin' up the packs
Trap full of guns, I'm only fuckin' with them double stack
Glock 30, keep one in the chamber
You don't wanna live this life, bitch, we deep in the danger
Where I'm from, you gotta keep you a banger
Unfamiliar faces get treated like strangers

I'm feelin' like Fredo Santana
It's gang shit but we don't do the bandanas
These suckers, they be purpin' hard for the camera

That's the only time you see 'em with a glamour
Young nigga keep a bag like Santa
Keep 30 in the Fanta, turn a square to a dancer

My bitch mix black and white like a panda
Hella ass on her, look like she from Atlanta
Pullin' up in different foreigns on a daily basis
Last year around this time, I was fightin' cases
I'ma die 'bout mine, I ain't the one to play with
Niggas tough but when I see 'em, they don't never say shit, bitch