(Is this a Swifta beat?)

Fuck everything, (yeah) I don't want no friends (nah, nah)

Treat niggas like kids when they're grown men (uh)

Big hot-stepping out a cold Benz

Hand ting spin like a whip to make the coke blend (brr)

Pockets on fat daily holding ten

Folding them

Keep it right next to the holster then (holster then)

Can't tell me nutting, B, I know the ends

Comment this, comment that, all you bitches know is net (chat)

Twitter fingers, Insta' bubbles

But if you saw me on the street

I'll leave ya leaking puddlеs (ha, ha)

I'm on a dumb flex, lil' bitch, I'm from the jungle

Putting arms all on a nigga likе he need a cuddle

Heater rumble

Hole in your chest, I'm gonna leave a tunnel

Bones and your flesh, boy, I leave you crumbled (yeah, yeah)

All this peacocking, get your feathers ruffled

I leave a half empty mag, I only need a couple

The money got me feeling so secure (so secure)

I don't do the net, real life we go to war (we go to war)

Twenty on your head, bitch, I beg you know the score (know the score)

This is mob life, baby, fuck what you thought (what you thought, yeah)

The money got me feeling so secure (so secure)

I don't do the net, real life we go to war (we go to war)

Twenty on your head, bitch, I beg you know the score (know the score)

This is mob life, baby, fuck what you thought (what you thought, yeah)

I'm from the block, boy, I was doing Top Boy

Top bitch, cock shit and hear the Glock noise

More money for the fam just to cop toys

I'm the mic jack king of the pop, boy

Youngers hungry, I'ma feed ya to the wolves

'Round the back of the shh where we're keeping all the tools

This the shallow end, man, I'll take you deeper in the pool

Drown, drown, now, now, you was speaking like we cool, bitch

Two stitches for dat

Throw a clip in the strap

Blow your shit in your lap

It's all gang

Back stabbers get dipped in the back

Big flickie and dat

More than a trickle, a tap

They all ran, bitch

White sheets like the Klan, bitch

No dick, I'm still the man, bitch

Keep heat, you catch a tan, bitch

If my name's in your mouth, you're a fan, bitch

The money got me feeling so secure (so secure)

I don't do the net, real life we go to war (nah, nah)

Twenty on your head, bitch, I beg you know the score (know the score)

This is mob life, baby, fuck what you thought (what you thought, ayy)

I swear this money got me feeling so secure (so secure)

I don't do the net, real life we go to war (we go to war)

Twenty on your head, bitch, I beg you know the score (know the score)

This is mob life, baby, fuck what you thought

Yeah, yeah

Mother of the Mob shit

0121, you know the ting

We coming in, stepping on necks

I know they see me, man, stop playing

(Is this a Swifta beat?)

Burrr