[Intro: Quilly]
Yeah, n***as' already know what it is
Quilly Millz, New Wave 2 n***a

[Verse 1: Quilly]
Yeah, you can check my background, I ain't rappers
Why would even mention all of these weak rappers?
I'm so appalled, I might just draw
And remind ya'll of how I killed them before
Pain is a virtue, I can't rap commercial
I used to have my whole bundle gone before curfew
Gave them shit to run with, look what I did so far
I ain't even asking no more, I'ma just bogard
Game like Bo Jack, Hot Topic; know that
Give your chick hard wood, she treat you like a throwback
Can't be around broke n***as' cuz they don't want shit
Never grab, waiting on their OG's to front shit
In the trap, the packs doing front flips
The semi make you back flip but you don't even want this
I be with a fine dike, she don't even want dick
All she want is pussy and money, we on the same shit
If I could turn back the hands, I wouldn't change it
I ain't a celebrity yet, I'm street famous
But them bitches give me brain till their brainless
Send her back to you and she kiss you with them same lips
I lost Bleek on a bike, I lost Reef cuz of dice
Them cold days, I couldn't sleep through them nights
Lost some of my close homies
There's a hand full of n***as' that's live
The rest phony, pin the tail on the Donkey
Old boy told me "let's get them"
I snap out and black out like T-Rex syndrome
I run the streets, I'm out here, I'm around
I be up gettin' money, I'll sleep when I'm in the ground
Marijuana by the ton, coke by the onion
[?] knockin' trees off more than Paul Bunions
I be smokin' deaf, n***a last year was nothing
This shit right here, have me lit; time square
My goons catchin' reck and their amped up
I'm just gettin' money, tryna stretch like I'm cramped up
I can't wait til' the first come
Same clothes for days, I get fly when the work done
I'm high when the juice around or when the percs come
You're a gun collector n***a, you don't squirt none
I'm so sick of this, run up in your Queen on the strength of stickin' it
I know, I'm ridiculous
Expensive high, you ain't puffin or sippin' this
Disrespectful, talkin bout can you put a nick in this
It's cold where I'm at, we hustle sacks, St. Nicholas
You know where I'm at if you really wanted to get it in
Names in a statement, I will never quote
The streets dried up, we never better coke
I'm playin' chess to a stale mate
The hard times make the good times feel great
I be high on Mt. Kushmore
Smokin' the same weed Wiz Khalifa got booked for
Loyalty is everything, the money is nothing dawg
Soon as a n***a act shady, I'ma cut him off
Brim low, outside smokin' indow
And, I was out there when you was watching from the window
I'm tryna make a dollar every time the wind blow
I be in the lab killin' beats like Timbo
I don't dance, I don't party, I don't disco
Put the streets on a disc, and sell a lot of Crisco
N***a..