[Intro: Lil Durk]
She want that big bag, she don’t want that lil’ girl shit
I just get mad when you on that lil’ girl shit (ATL Jacob, ATL Jacob)
[Verse 1: Lil Durk]
Drink a six down, tell your bro to stop to get a kit
Worth them Ms, now me and my lil’ brother got a stick
Drunk a Xan down, woke up and forgot what I had said
My shit jet brown, new Dior sneakers kinda slick (Why would I lie on him?)
Think he slick ’cause he tried to take his brother off (Why would I lie on him?)
One nigga can’t stop the killings, only money talk (Why would I lie on him?)
Gotta watch the sneaky hoes snatchin’ rubbers off (Why would I lie on him?)
I told you to your face, you’re a snake, so cut the brother talk (Why would I lie?)
Tried to skrrt off, you get clapped though, let the thirty off
Ever shot at in a Maybach, knock your curtains off
I feel like niggas gonna tell you start the prayer talk
An aggravated UUW, scratch the numbers off
Oh, hell nah, Chicago startin’ to want them bails bonds
Could’ve got out early, but they caught him with a cellphone
You can’t tell me nothin’, I’m with the murders, I’ma stand on it
You can’t tell me nothin’, them niggas different, you can’t compare ’em to me
Pull up with a stick, pull up with a big gun
Pull up with a stick, pull up with a stick, uh
Hit up with a switch, he don’t even know where he hit from
Worried ’bout my bitch, you don’t even knowin’ what your bitch doin’, uh
I’m so rich I bring the barber in the club
I’m so rich, I’m with the robbers in the club
You end up snitchin’, then you not a part of us
Bitch, this a Patek, this is not a Cartier
[Chorus: Lil Durk]
Where you get that shit from?
Where you get that shit from?
Where you get that shit from?
Where you get that shit from?
Where you get that shit from?
Where you get that shit from?
Where you get that shit from?
Where you get that shit from?
[Verse 2: Chief Wuk & Lil Durk]
This nigga called my phone, fifty grams, nigga, that’s patty cake
I don’t even fuck around with no scales, nigga, that’s petty weight
All my bitches be in the kitchen cookin’, got they ass bakin’ cakes
Could’ve went to school for culinary arts, I would’ve went every day
Thought I’d have my CDL license, fucked up that interstate
Hit the road, gettin’ to that cash, bitch, I’m a heavyweight
I’m a big dawg, I’m a big dawg, I’m a big (Go, go, go, man, what?)
I’m a big dawg, I’m a big dawg, I’m a big dawg (Go, go, go)
I’m a problem with that trappin’ shit
Don’t call my phone if you ain’t never fuckin’ wrapped a brick
A thousand-eight grams I cop, I need my whole lick
Got reputation in the trenches, I don’t ever miss
[Chorus: Lil Durk]
Where you get that shit from?
Where you get that shit from?
Where you get that shit from?
Where you get that shit from?
Where you get that shit from?
Where you get that shit from?
Where you get that shit from?
Where you get that shit from?
Where you get that shit from?
Where you get that shit from?
Where you get that shit from?
Where you get that shit from?
Where you get that shit from?
Where you get that shit from?
Where you get that shit from?
Where you get that shit from?
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