[Intro]
Ay yo man on real shit bro I got a hit on my hand
I swear I feel it, this sensation, the vibrations in the air, tingling and shit

Yeah, Aye
Yeah, Aye
Yeah, Aye

[Chorus]
How the fuck these rappers claiming that they competition but they music fucking trash?
You can ask [?] who the youngest in the trap
In the service selling lean on the east by U C F
Sixteen and trapping 'cause my momma kicked me out
But shit, ain't it funny I just got off tour, wow
Now I'm off a molly, drinking hard with the cannon
We don't hear that talking, you just acting 'bout that action
We don't hear that talking, you just acting

[Verse]
Aye, I'm off loud
Ears on silent, dead, wow
You can't make no sound
Extended clips by my gut and hip, plug connect
Call up 'migo for the gas and sticks, A1, how my momma raised me
Fuck n***a, he the type that when he talk he gon' [?]
Keep it real, ain't a [?] bitch floatin through my [?] blood
You a pussy, phone it, under pressure
When you shoot it, tell them [?] we don't burn through work
Back up in the trap, hit my line I bet I serve you
Take his work if he pussy pillow talking is where you on it, that's for certain, we gon' hurt you now
We in your circle, hella lurking with some killers who is down to work and now its five rappers, they just rapping, sneak snitching on they clique
Watch who you look up to, 'cause on the low he probably pussy and a bitch [?}
Only rappers [?]