[Verse 1: Quilly]
I get Wilder like Deontay on it
The dope a 10, the stamp got Beyonce on it
My last gat was 3 stacks, n***a, Andre on it
Get in the booth and start snapping like Kanye moments
Fuck boxing, pound for pound this pound'll chin check ya
You can get hit wit a box of Winchesters
This clip half Glock, the rest of it; Kriss Vector
Run in your house and start lookin' for shit like Inspectors
We subbin' n***as right out the game, he gotta sit out
N***as come in petty when they know we got them sticks out
I live around all of these crackers, this shit like "Get Out"
I don't go on dates no more, just pull my dick out
Soon as them n***as ran out out of work, I pulled a brick out
Soon as the .40 ain't do its job, I pulled the 5th out
Light you up like Christmas tree
I pour Hi-Tech and Wok (?) Hibiscus tea
My Youngins on their last drill, they'll spin for me
(?) press a n***a wit the iron, no sympathy
I keep the food on me, I'm a foodie
If certain milligrams ain't in me, I act moody
You n***as kinda scary, what's that? Tom & Jerry
I got boy and girl, what's that? Tyler Perry
4 pound, I'll press you with force
Spin the block, n***as smellin' gumbo out the Porsche
Dump my shot, shit be (?) cotton
Tell a n***a "say cheese" and start picture croppin'
I bet this Kriss make you jump if you ever Kross me
(?) drop change on you bum ass n***as
I got bread, I'll drop loafs on you crumb ass n***as
We garbed up (?)
Garbed up, bout to (?)
My phone filled with Ice players and oxy fiends
Billie Mays couldn't even get you Oxy-Clean
I ain't gotta go get it, that shit be right here
Pull up in machines like Bishop Lamor Whitehead