[Intro: Pop Smoke]
Woo
Woo, woo
Yoz, what you tellin' me?
Yeah, yeah (Mmm)
Look
Glock 9, tote the Ruger (Mmm)
Traphouse Mob
Oh, oh (Oh, look)
Glock 9, tote the Ruger (Oh)
Yeah, yeah, oh
Yeah, look (Woo, woo)

[Verse 1: Pop Smoke]
Glock 9, tote the Ruger (Ruger)
In my murder bravados (Oh)
Latest fashion (Oh)
Every gun got a hunnid clip (Oh)
VS watch (Oh)
My diamonds dancin' (Oh)
Let 'em reach (Oh), we gon' fix 'em up
'Cause I'm the teacher (Oh)
Preacher man (Oh)
Look, I got that Goyard swag (Oh)
Couple Goyard bags
I been havin'
Woo, woo, woo, woo
[Chorus 1: Jay Gwuapo]
Oh, yeah, I'm back again, n***a, tell a friend
And we see the opps, and we in the party
Then we got no choice, boy, it gotta end
I told Luda go see what they drivin' and shoot through the car
He put bullets right through the tint
Gotta know that my shooters retarded
They spinnin' regardless, don't know how this shit'll end
Tryna talk on my name, get you clapped up
I'm off the Percocet, I prolly do it, hit you catch you spinnin' through masked up
You know I'm EBK and Pop be GDK, he never spinnin' the black trucks
Just know that the Max with me, you ain't even gotta see me throwin' the hat up
And we got them poles, better back up

[Verse 2: Pop Smoke]
Look, I'm like, "Who these n***as?" (Oh)
Lookin' hard (Oh)
In my Bentley truck (Oh, oh)
Trey hold the automatic (Oh)
And he'll get to clappin' (Oh)
Broad day in traffic, woo, woo (Oh, oh)
Look, I don't know what these n***as see up in these n***as
These n***as be cappin' (Oh, oh)
Look
And this Louis, Fendi pack up with my body in perfection (Oh, oh)
[Chorus 2: Bizzy Banks]
Like, look
She ask, "How you do it?"
Baby, I'm trappin' and getting to it
Please don't talk hot 'cause my shooters coolin'
He make a move then we gotta boo him like, look
Ain't no funny movements, JJ too tact with his executions
Stay on the court, ain't no substitutions
These n***as really mad 'cause they really losing, like, look
They know who to call when it's lit
I see a opp and I shoot off the rip
Cops don't know who just spint
They seen a black flag from the drip
I don't politic' with kids
Tell em, lil' n***as to get off my dick
These n***as know what I did
Ain't gotta drop racks for a fuck to get hit

[Chorus 1: Jay Gwuapo]
Yeah, I'm back again, n***a, tell a friend
And we see the opps, and we in the party
Then we got no choice, boy, it gotta end
I told Luda go see what they drivin' and shoot through the car
He put bullets right through the tint
Gotta know that my shooters retarded
They spinnin' regardless, don't know how this shit'll end
Tryna talk on my name, get you clapped up
I'm off the Percocet, I prolly do it, hit you catch you spinnin' through masked up
You know I'm EBK and Pop be GDK, he never spinnin' the black trucks
Just know that the Max with me, you ain't even gotta see me throwin' the hat up
And we got them poles, better back up
[Verse 3: Bizzy Banks]
I said, "We got the poles, better back up"
No, it ain't cop lights, you see the red and blue, lil' n***a, we flagged up
I see the first n***a make a move, that's on my so he get clapped up
I just been fiendin' to wack some'
Lover told me I got too much to lose
So we call up [Smooth?] to go blast one

[Chorus 2: Bizzy Banks]
Like, look
She ask, "How you do it?"
Baby, I'm trappin' and getting to it
Please don't talk hot 'cause my shooters coolin'
He make a move then we gotta boo him like, look
Ain't no funny movements, JJ too tact with his executions
Stay on the court, ain't no substitutions
These n***as really mad 'cause they really losing, like, look
They know who to call when it's lit
I see a opp and I shoot off the rip
Cops don't know who just spint
They seen a black flag from the drip
I don't politic' with kids
Tell em, lil' n***as to get off my dick
These n***as know what I did
Ain't gotta drop racks for a fuck to get hit