Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah I keep two Glocks on me, n***a, I don't shoot no ones I got shoebox money in it, fill up with the ones When I'm ridin' with these n****s, they ain't know nothin' They just dissin' in they songs, cap-ass, n***a You doin' all that dissin', no rap-ass, n***a And we can't fill you up without these goddamn triggers N***a better check the scope, or we done dropped somethin' N***a doin' too much rhymin', they gon' hop somethin' We the type of n***a pull up where you show at You the type of n***a turn into a doormat Track by 750 car like a low-jack You gon' do shit, n***a, you talkin' and you know that All that loud bark, talk, get you dropped Hit my dick in her mouth, cause I'm a dog I done fucked her on the couch in her house And my chain go, I keep two Glocks on me, n***a I don't shoot no ones, I got shoebox money in it Fill up with them ones, I think I'm on somethin' When I'm ridin' with these n****s, they ain't know nothin' They just dissin' in they songs, cap-ass, n***a You doin' all that dissin', no rap-ass, n***a And we can't fill you up without these goddamn triggers So better check this go, cause we done dropped somethin' N***a doin' too much rhymin', they gon' hop somethin' We just hit they block with the bronze stick All my opps Ben Simmons down, shoot shit Savage, Eazy-E, lil' bitch, I'm ruthless My opps Jays, if we smokin', we'll be toothless Every time they bump into 4L, n****s duck Take that bass out your voice, I shot him in the gut We drive by and we walk up anything to get him touched Shoot his house up, shoot his bike, shoot his truck Caught him lackin', he wanna be fresh, he leavin' Neiman's You try, you die on campus in the morning or the evening Yellow tape, the crime scene, his momma keep on screamin' I don't shoot no ones, I got shoebox money And it fill up with them twins, I think I'm on somethin' When I'm ridin' with these n****s, they ain't know nothin' They just dissin' in they songs, cap-ass, n***a You doin' all that dissin', no rap-ass, n***a And we can't fill you up without these goddamn triggers These n****s doin' too much rhymin', they gon' hop some