I’m feelin’ villainous
I couldn’t afford them kicks, I had one pair, and I cleaned them rigorous
Squeezed in junior, I feel like Vinícius
Young G’s stupid, but, they ain’t idiots
It’s scary, trap insidious
How you expect us to know how to love, you know?
I can’t teach no one how to hustle, some man just got it
Back then I got chased by feds, I ran out of breath and I wanted to vomit
I hit that freak, she put me in cuffs, it triggered my trauma, I tell her to stop it
She wanna know if I’m really ballin’, that girl there wanna weigh my wallet
We ain’t doin’ irrational get backs, creep up clean when they least expect it
Hygiene’s poor, look at the floor, there’s insects crawlin’, I could’ve got sepsis
Nasty, still try fuck on my stepsis, huh
Ran through nuff of these famous girls, but I still got some on my checklist
Bare gunman on my guestlist
I took bro-bro out of the trenches
Jump out the Volvo, jump out the Lexus, active
He ain’t got no preference, slapped it
But, when in retrospective, I could’ve been calm and collected
Avoided a problem and fleed the scene
Too vocal, don’t need no beat
I go old-school like Evisu Jeans
Who’s that with the cargos and Corteiz?
The back poke out and the waist petite
Got flown out all the way to Greece
She got great physique
2 a.m., I’m callin’ Clint, like, “Yo, who’s that girl in the vest?”
I’ll send a delivery text, I know that it’s wrong, it is what it is
Broski locked, I’m visitin’ him
Brought eaters to the prison for him
Vision for him, and it’s bigger than him
Disrespect, I’m sizzlin’ him
That girl look like SZA to me
How you upset that I cut you off when you basically handed the scissors to me?
Two-man step, diligently (Grrah)
Watch my back vigilantly
My young boy do man differently
She wanna show them girl she know me, call my government name
I never tucked my shirt in school, so why would I grow up and tuck my chain?
Hide my face like, “Fuck the fame”
Trusting different, but love’s the same
I don’t trust anyone lately
This lifestyle sendin’ me crazy
Who’s to say that they’ll never betray me? Rusty one from the 1980s
But the new plate, a millennium baby
She deserve a standin’ ovation the way that she got on her knees and ate me
Two hands, Lord Jesus, save me
We all know the industry’s fake, the street’s fake as well
Stand up for my rights like Santan Dave, them man stand up like Dave Chappelle
You can lock the lock, but the trap don’t stop
Half of the block get paid in jail
That was a risky text before
And now it’s no danger, I’m on a major scale
That was a risky text before, if I send that now, there ain’t no danger
The way that the light bounce off of these GIAs make gyal act stranger
Got love for all of the young G’s bookin’ a flight, and I’m headed to Asia
Four and a baby goin’ away, times were hard, I slept in a manger
Give her the Trojan, give her the Trojan Horse, I feel like Troy
Had a revolver, decomposin’ hid in the woods, I feel like Roy
She give me a wine, blood rush to my genitals
Lucky for me, she can feel my—
Is it right? Won’t say that it is
Shame that it is, and it is what it is
Oi, Dave, I don’t even wanna release (Why?)
I don’t wanna be mentioned in the same sentence as none of these creeps
I don’t wanna come to your session, I don’t wanna jump on none of your beats
We can talk ’bout direct debit, my monthly payment a hundred G’s
Taxman on me, I keep receipts
My biggest paigons HMRC, huh
Bro got it in Masjid, he got a mad ting under his kameez
Bad one watchin’ her calories, long ting, ’cause I wanna go out to eat
Hella petite like Bella Hadid, so I handle it delicately, she kind of surprised I got elegant speech
I got a ting from DC, Harley Quinn, feel like the Joker
Back then, I had my nank in Dallas, Texas hold ’em, me and my poker
Antisocial, I’m a loner
He got done up in mid-November and didn’t recover till late October
You’ll need more than sling on a shoulder
Young black Brit in Italian kit, I feel like Tammy in Roma
I had the Range with the extra seats, so I squeezed that bitch in the back of the Rover
Cliffs of Dover, white on sea
Who’s that there on the C2C?
She want a man with decent P
And her ex is a factor, Misha B
Let’s not talk ’bout makin’ a mill’, this year, I average one in a month
Had a vision of runnin’ it up, and it’s workin’ well like rum in a punch
In DLT, I ain’t come for a brunch
Who’s that brownin’ sat in a passy
I have plans of a cash and carry, my legs were dry, my elbows ashy
Ayy, speakin’ of ash, I beg you man ‘low with the smoking, bruv
Please bro, burnin’ tobacco in the booth, you man are killin’ me
Tryna fuckin’ record
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