(You did good, Slick)
Hit, dip, wig split, hit a little dope, before I sweat a ho, so— (It’s a Smash)
Hit, dip, wig split, hit, dip, wig split
Hit, dip, wig split, hit a little dope, before I sweat a ho, so—
Hit, dip, wig split, hit, dip, wig split
Hit, dip, wig split, hit a little dope, before I sweat a ho, so—
Hit, dip, wig split, hit, dip, wig split
Hit, dip, wig split (Wetto, Wetto, Wetto)
Hit a little dope, before I sweat a ho, so— (Wetto, Wetto, Wetto)
Hit, dip, wig split, hit, dip, wig split
(Wet, wet, wet, wetto)
I got the Glock in my yoga pants, fuckin’ that bitch, in a yoga stance
Swangin’ that K’, with an open stance, loaded, from smokin’ that opium
Stain a lil’ boy, in the clothes he’s in
All of my walls, they closin’ in, 51/50 (Wet, wet, Wetto), thеy tryna come get me, just mindin’ my businеss and moseyin’
Matte black, smokin’ packs, panic attacks, back to back
Xanax on my lap, debatin’, should I relapse?
But back to the ho I was talkin’ ’bout, I just wanna put it up in her mouth
Pimpin’ up in my blood, what’s up cuh?
Thuggin’ that dirty South
Four letters, two numbers, bitch, Grey*59, three fingers in the air, main bitch by my side
$licky pull up in a quarter mill’ and slaughter up your daughter
Yung Jesus, with them Forgi wheels don’t walk, he drive on water
Anytime, any place, any hood, any state
Good, ’til it fuckin’ ain’t, woods to the fuckin’ face
Ridin’ with my baby sage, lines on expensive plates
Tears on my diamond chains, stoic, never lookin’ phased
Poet, when I’m spittin’ game (Game), show me, how that pussy shaved (Shaved)
Dosage climbin’, with my shame (Shame), mama cryin’, for my pain (Pain)
Will they ever understand? (No), can I even help my dad? (No)
Money fuckin’ up my fam’, givin’ until there’s nothin’ left
Pullin’ up in that latest (Damn)
Choppa stay on me, don’t need no hands
Prefer to be lonely, don’t need no friends
Ho we just fuckin’, I don’t date fans (Bitch)
I’m with my cousin and talkin’ plans
Went to my hood and I copped some land
Blowin’ through my money like Democrats
Two-step on the IRS, fuck a tax
Why the fuck you look to me for help?
There ain’t an ace in the cards I was dealt
I’m thirty one, still don’t know, how to take care of myself
Honestly, I’m scared, that I might melt
Leave behind a bunch of black spots, on a white pelt
Maybe in the next life, I’ll come back as a nice belt, Ion’ know
There’s a fine line, between me and you
The biggest difference is, I’ll snort that shit and probably puke
Dodge and juke all the bullshit y’all try and pull me through
But I’m still shinin’, baby girl wylin’
Catch me ridin’ by, with that look in my eyes
Palms start to sweat, by the way I’m grippin’ my .9
Yeah, I’m always on my toes but I’m still the same height
Standin’ tall above my grave, make sure, it’s filled with all the people we supposedly saved
Make sure, you throw the plaques in and all the money we made
I can’t put them on my wall, that shit just ain’t my taste
It ain’t my taste, it ain’t my taste
Shawty wanna marry me, I said “You’re better off in debt”
If it didn’t work out baby, I’ll be real hard to forget
German whips and private jets, private beaches to access
Fuck on me, baby, I’m still a mess and no that ain’t a threat
I ride for my family that’s Grey*59, try and be all I can be and not waste my time
On the brink of insanity, I can’t make up my mind
Yeah, I battle my vanity and I think I’m blind
Hit, dip, wig split, hit a little dope, before I sweat a ho, so—
Hit, dip, wig split, hit, dip, wig split
Hit, dip, wig split, hit a little dope, before I sweat a ho, so—
Hit, dip, wig split, hit, dip, wig split
Hit, dip, wig split
Four letters, two numbers, bitch, Grey*59
Three fingers in the air
Three fingers in the air
Four letters, two numbers, bitch, Grey*59
Three fingers in the air, m-
Three fingers in the air, main
I ride for my family, that’s Grey*59
I ride for my family, that’s Grey*59
Try and be, all I can be
And I waste my ti-ti-ti-ti—ime
Try and be, all I can be and I waste my time
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