DaBoii
What I Been On
[Intro]
Lil' Rece produced it, Lil’ Rece produced it

[Verse]
N***as asking what I been on
Out the way and in yo' bitch of yours
Fuck you hoes, it's just me and my bitch ’cause I got sick of whores
Got that call my n***a didn't make it, damn near hit the floor
Got the tightest grip up on my kicks, I never slipped before
Bro passed me the Glock and said the play, I bet I get the score
They like, "Boy your life so valuable, what do you risk it for?"
Bro just hit a lick and up sixteen he tryna hit for more
Sorry bae I'm talking to the mic, I had to hit ignore
She like, "Take a shot for me", the fuck I look like? Drizzy Drake?
Pillow talking to the bitch boy you gon' make a big mistake
Caught a case for a hammer that I didn't get to spray
N***a you riding or you not? Pussy n***a pick your fate
Brodie giving head shots so we can see what's on your mind
Walked in the club with ten hoes but ain't none of these bitches mine
Crazy how I barely work, they like, "DaBoii been on his grind"
Bullets flying, bet you see them bitches come if you was blind
Pull off, never speak up on it bitch just know that we up on it
N***as posted, I don't like them, rest in peace to three opponents
Hit the gas and hope that shit take me away, I’m Keyshia cole’n
Sucka free, bitch ask my mama, it ain't much that we condoning
On the block, bitch we patrolling
You the drunk type, we get loaded
N***as dad talk on the net then know what we ’bout be the boldest
The ones that flex a loaf in every pic they take, they be the brokest
When they asked you for the truth, what you do? The n***a told it
They like, "Who you under?" My own label, bitch I'm signed to me
Bought the flashlight for the baby chopper, let's play hide and seek
Baby bring that ass up over here, there's something I’m trying to see
Tryna see if you can ride this dick like how I ride the beat
Punk a n***a out them dollar bills, yeah I'm Suge Knight'n n***as
You say you gon' do what when you see me? Hope Mike Tyson wit' 'em
We know them your little sister's shoes and you still tryna fit 'em
I don't feel you n***as, never would, wouldn't even try to feel 'em
She like, "What's that little dance you do?" I got all kind of rhythm
N***as MIA when it's a war, but I'm still tryna kill 'em
Pussy boy you know the consequences if you riding with 'em
Got ditched in front of some n***as that I love, can't catch no vibe with n***as
When it's funk I'm masking up like it's October 31st
You ain't even really like that, you just wrote it in your verse
My n***a Hann Dog on the phone, he like, "You go to switch your words"
So God forgive me for my sins, I brought explosives in the church
On the gang