(Free dem boys, free dem boys)
Pandemic almost over, what you say (where that paper at?)
Will used to be a killer, but you done changed
Wrote a statement on your nigga, this shit be crazy
He ain’t go down for a thing, I used to praise him
(Veno gon’ cook up, he mix the ingredients)
I still miss my niggas
V-Live, favorite, I’ll trip in this bitch
I ain’t goin’ in ‘less the pole come too (on God)
Bust down Richard bought my ho one too (on God)
You ain’t gotta ask, nigga, know I’m shootin’
On Reese, on Rob, on Neff, on Scooter, I ain’t lettin’ shit slide
Mr. I’ll-Still-Walk-Shit-Down, Fanta lookin’ dirty
Thirty-six for a pound, not cookie
All the drug dealers wanna book me (no cap)
Paid to get you killed, I ain’t payin’ for no pussy (at all)
And I’m kinda schooled, don’t shit, beat you triple
Ask about me, youngin’, dawg, he always on the mission (always)
Always first to shoot with that .30, I act different (bap, bap)
If he ain’t dead, guarantee that nigga crippled, my bad
“You still on the phone?” Yeah, with Drekk fine ass
Last time tryin’ love, shit, I hope it work
Still holdin’ for my youngin’ really fightin’ murders (free dem boys)
First time on the hit, I was kinda nervous (swear)
You ain’t into suckin’ dick, you don’t need my number
All about the money, all about the bag
Tracks kinda cool but I still fuck with ‘Cats (skrrt)
Spin the block on ’em, throw them bitches at his neck (bap-bap-bap-bap-bap)
Can’t forget about me, bitches know I’m still the catch
Million dollars in cash, you will get stretched
I still miss my niggas
V-Live, favorite, I’ll trip in this bitch
I ain’t goin’ in ‘less the pole come too
Bust down Richard but my ho one too (swear to God)
You ain’t gotta ask, nigga, know I’m shootin’
On Reese, on Rob, on Neff, on Scooter, I ain’t lettin’ shit slide
Mr. I’ll-Still-Walk-Shit-Down (come here), Fanta lookin’ dirty
Thirty-six for a pound, not cookie
Know I fuck with James Harden but I’ll never leave the rocket
‘Fore I let her waste my time, I put on all my watches
Thousand dollar jeans, my mama told me something that’s outta pocket
Literally holdin’ thirty pairs of Amiri jeans
‘Member doin’ shows for a rack, I drove four hours for that
My folks shared a hotel with the gang, I brought like four hundred back
Ridin’ ’round with pistols in our laps, we ain’t runnin’ no track
Lot of niggas cap, I don’t wanna boss but I took off my hat
I was twenty years old when I stole my mama coat, we was at TJ Maxx
Now it’s foreigns in the driveway, which one I’m gon’ drive today?
Told the opps, “I got manners, one of you niggas wanna die today?”
Dumpin’ back, hangin’ out the window, have ’em dancin’ like Sada Baby
Know a Blood don’t watch football ‘less he bettin’ ‘gainst the Redskins
Twenty racks on Cuban links, not African-American
Put them chains on then went way faster
Feelin’ like a ex-slave master
I still miss my niggas
V-Live, favorite, I’ll trip in this bitch (trip in this bitch)
I ain’t goin’ in ‘less the pole come too (on God)
Bust down Richard but my ho one too (on God)
You ain’t gotta ask, nigga, know I’m shootin’
On Reese, on Rob, on Neff, on Scooter, I ain’t lettin’ shit slide
Mr. I’ll-Still-Walk-Shit-Down, Fanta lookin’ dirty
Thirty-six for a pound, not cookie
All the drug dealers wanna book me
Still movin’, talkin’ ’bout no cookies
All the drug dealers wanna book me
All the drug dealers wanna book
All the drug dealers wanna book me
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