(I miss you, Bryce)
(Ayy, Woods, light that sh*t up)
N*gg*, get back, you play with this side, you know that we moving like that
And I get the bag, Im so in love with this sh*t, Ima play with the racks
My blunt full of OG gas bag, you know that Im smoking the thrax
Im texting this ho and she think Ima wife , but I already know she a gnat
Run down on your b*tch, pass her back to you
We wont even get into that, when I hit her back, and she sing hallelujah
And my woadie gon send a pack like a quarterback, gonna catch it like Julio
And she say that she love me, like really though
My bank account got them Os like cheerios
I really hope you dont fold on me, hope you dont fold on me
This sh*t get old to me, this sh*t get old to me
And then she get old to me
Gas bag, got a load on me
Why you tryna put a hold on me?
You know that we going too deep
You know that we going too deep
Woah, woah, stop that (Okay)
Woah, woah , stop that sh*t
Balling on n*gg*s, Im feeling like Vick
And I spend about two racks all on my kicks
He stepped on my troops and hes gonna get hit
That lil boy cant see me, Im moving in reach
Im so geeked out my mind when Im making these hits
N*gg*, get back, you play with this side, you know that we moving like that
And I get the bag, Im so in love with this shit, Ima play with the racks
My blunt full of OG gas bag, you know that Im smoking the thrax
Im texting this ho and she think Ima wife, but I already know she a gnat
Run down on your b*tch, pass her back to you
We wont even get into that, when I hit her back, and she sing hallelujah
And my woadie gon send a pack like a quarterback, gonna catch it like Julio
And she say that she love me, like really though
My bank account got them Os like cheerios