[Hook : Big Flock]
When I'm sliding; Bring the K's and the Mac's out
Every time I fuck your bitch, pull her tracks out
Guns on the market, n***a, bring your racks out
Pray to Allah, that lil brodie don't crash out
Overdose on Percocets till' I pass out
Your baby mom in my crib with her ass out
Try to run down and lil n***a, you're ass out
He think he a shooter cause' he brought his mask out
Call up Q Da Fool he moving the packs out
My n***a Guapo get work from El Paso
I'm exposing n***a, bringing the facts out
Rap ain't working then I'm taking the crash route
Run up on ya' I ain't pulling my mask down
And my cousin out here moving the smack now
N***a disrespecting me he get smacked down
I'm a shooter I ain't putting my strap down

[Verse 2: Q Da Fool]
N***a's talking but they never gone' slide
N***a's watching so I keep my .45 - Bah
One in his eye; N***a try you could live in the sky
I was high, I was sleep in the sky
Pop a Xan and I shot up his ride
That boy went to court with a suit and a tie
Oh my god, man that boy got to die
Real n***a; Real n***as beside me
In the trenches I could trap out the alley
In the suburbs I could trap out the valley
Had to score cause' a n***a was fouling
Rich n***a, hustling really my talent
500 Xans and I'm finna' get more
10 pounds, I got 5 in the floor
2 with my bitch; 3 with my whore
Cooking up Molly, I'm finna' cook more
I cleaned his ass up, yeah I did my chores
My brother got locked cause' he was kicking doors
I gave his main bitch intercourse
I been balling, n***a no court
Gas came in; Got bars by the door
Can't marry a bitch cause' I'm gone' get divorced
These drugs I love, and these streets I adore
Nobody safe if I ever go poor
Study True Religion I know Allah and Lord
If I don't got the Glock then you know I got a source
[?] got locked for robbing a store
Then came a temp and the charged me some more
Rich n***a I feel bad for the poor
Rich n***a I got a bags on the floor
Rich n***a I feel bad for the poor
Rich n***a I got a bags on the floor
[Hook : Big Flock]
When I'm sliding; Bring the K's and the Mac's out
Every time I fuck your bitch, pull her tracks out
Guns on the market, n***a, bring your racks out
Pray to Allah, that lil brodie don't crash out
Overdose on Percocets till' I pass out
Your baby mom in my crib with her ass out
Try to run down and lil n***a, you're ass out
He think he a shooter cause' he brought his mask out
Call up Q Da Fool he moving the packs out
My n***a Guapo get work from El Paso
I'm exposing n***a, bringing the facts out
Rap ain't working then I'm taking the crash route
Run up on ya' I ain't pulling my mask down
And my cousin out here moving the smack now
N***a disrespecting me he get smacked down
I'm a shooter I ain't putting my strap down