King Lil Jay
Go In
[Intro: FBG Duck]
Turn up
Let's get it, heh (Woo, woo, woo, woo)
Heh, turn up, turn up
Turn up, turn up, woo, woo

[Verse 1: FBG Duck & King Lil Jay]
Look, this rapping shit ain’t for you boys, who the fuck let y'all in?
You know I'm a paper chaser, so I stack that tall then
They say they be balling, I’m gon' show these n***as how to ball then
Your girlfriend keep on calling 'cause she know I'm balling like [?] and Spaulding
Why they tryna play with me?
Say what you got to say to me
This is the zoo, them apes with me
My fingers itch, Ben Frank disease
Don't got time for lames, leave
You doing the same thing
I just cock and aim things
That trigger is my main squeeze
Fuck around and get shot, n***a
Pull up on your block, n***a
A hundred shots, n***a
Find out that window and watch you drop, n***a
You can catch me on St. Lawrence or in Minnesota with some real n***as
You fuck around with them real n***as, you gon' get barbecue grilled, n***a
We ain't playing no games, we not no lames, shout out to the gang
That's my bro ’nem and I’ll blow for them 'cause they tote for me and I tote for them (Double-0, lil’ ho, let's get it)
Fucking around with us, n***a, yes, my name is Duck, n***a (Double-0)
You fuck around with my broski 'nem and you gon' get shot up, n***a, turn up
[Verse 2: King Lil Jay & Lil Foolie]
All I know is check a B-A-G, I’m tryna reach the T-O-P
'Til I reach the E-N-D, I guess that's when I D-I-E
Yeah, my clique is FBG, attracted to T-H-O-Ts
We don't fuck with O-P-Ps, we shoot until our gun on E
STL and EBT, screamin' out G-A-N-G
Shout out broski number 3, shout out Dutchie
Team No Lackin', bitch, I got H-E-A-T, and you know it's on M-E
And you never on safety for goofies that H-A-T-E
You n***as ain't real, you n***as F-A-K-E
You n***as is sweet, I eat you like C-A-K-E
Got my gun on me, we going on a D-A-T-E
Make your bitch B-U-S-T (Lil Foolie), let the opposition D-E-A-D, let's get it

[Verse 3: Lil Foolie]
Got two [?] in the four seater
When I pull up, it's no speaking
My MAC cocked, so the pole squeezing
All headshots, leave folks leaking
My money long like four bleachers
Times four more, yours ain't reaching
With Lil Jay and Duck, creeping
We shoot you for no reason
Off a couple bars, so you know I'm leaning
[?], I'm a walking demon
Free all the guys, it is no squeaking
Don't do rats, we straight cheesing
I'm a hitman, get your clique hit
Aim real high, so I won't miss
He a sweet stain, then we poke shit
Bands on bands, I blow shit
Off Keshia Cole, we smoke piss
Cross my team at your risk
One wrong move, then my gun spit
My body count like one-six