DJ on the beat so it's a banger

Von

Pull up and get him

That bullet ripped through his tissue and tore out his gristle

It was the nickel, and it's a Glock

And that b***h sound like a missile

He know I'm official

Doing all that woofin' and shit, boy, you know I'ma get you

And wasn't nobody with him

I wore a nine, the shoes, ain't nobody fit 'em

I popped me a Perky and thirty

I'm high then a bitch, boy, ain't nobody perfect

If I take a L, I'm back on that corner

I'm hustlin', ain't nobody serving

Get booked 'cause somebody working

He told, I know that for certain

Get caught, I'm closing his curtains

We scored another conversion

Designer, Givenchy

All of this ice on my wrist and it feel like it's Christmas

Speaking of Christmas, come get your ho

I be climbing all up in her chimney

We sharing the ho if she friendly

Ain't see him, he gone, he missing

Won't see me in the back of a Bentley

Hop out and I'm blowin', it's rented

Walk up, ain't doin' no drive-bys

You MVP, that b***h my sideline

Just a wild lil' n***a from the South side

n***a killed your homie, you don't even come outside

I f**ked your b***h on purpose

Them 'bow's come in, we working

My song come on, she twerking

All the opps be broke, they hurting

My niggas, they too official

Send a text, they get right with you

Y'all was somewhere playing Monkey in the Middle

We was trying to put on for some guns when I was little

If he still alive, we gon' meet 'em and then split 'em

On the jail call, gotta talk in a riddle

Ho said she love me, she gone tat' my initials

n***a move foul, get to blowing like a whistle

F**k that, let's talk about Louis, Amiri, and Gucci and Prada and shit

When I go to the store, they closing' the door and they bringing' me bottles and shit

F**k that, let's talk about that lil' one-fifty I spent with my lawyer and shit

My gun don't punch, it kick

Get with the shit or get hit in your shit

Pull up and get him

That bullet ripped through his tissue and pulled out his gristle

It was the nickel, and it's a Glock

And that b***h sound like a missile

He know I'm official

Doing all that woofin' and shit, boy, you know I'ma get you

And wasn't nobody with him

I wore a nine, the shoes, ain't nobody fit 'em

Walk up, ain't doing no drive-by's

You MVP bitch, that b***h my sideline

Just a wild lil' n***a from the South side

n***a killed your homie, you don't even come outside

I f**ked your b***h on purpose

Them bros come in, we working

My song come on, she twerking

All the opps be broke, they hurting