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Flex, walked in wit' my (koll)
Set! Yeah! Set! Yeah! Set! Yeah! Set! Yeah! (Walked in wit' my—)
Set! Yeah! Set! Yeah! Set! Yeah! Set! Yeah!
Set! Yeah! (Aye!)

Poppin' out, we hit the block, make contact (Yeah! Yeah!)
Chop' got sight, I don't need no contact (Brr!)
I'm castin' curses, don't need no contract (Aye!)
Seen y'all nonsense
Bitin' off styles, they ain't write 'em like Wild, better peep that contrast (B*t*h)
Y'all tracks wack, never rap like mine
Y'all slatt cap, now ya hat likе slime (Yeah-Yeah)
Talk that smack, but I know you nеver walked that, man
Better dial that back, dog

I'm not no b*t*h, only crabbin' 'boutta dollar
Stay lit; how I try and forget my problems
Every shot you tryna send didn't land, bro', nada
I'm a different dog, Goddard, and my b*t*h top model (What?)
You ain't f**kin' wit' the prophet, couldn't f**k with my apostles
Couldn't catch, to be honest, if it's facts
Then you really can't rap, to be honest, like that (To be honest)
Draw flames, get splacked wit' the sauna
Get blacked wit' my .45 strap
I got forty-five blunts
Switch straps, he slashed with the fo'-five sum (Yeah)
It ain't 'bout this and that
Young PE$O ain't dumb (No)
If he want contact, then I hit 'em wit' a drum
Then I hit 'em with the drum, now his soul leavin' out of his body
An exorcism crisis, it's existential
When I show 'em what's inside his body, it's surgical
Uppercut'll put his life on a vertical
Elevate a stairway to Heaven's Gate
Chop' at his top, now the opp' a convertible
Put the piece to his mind, let him meditate
Shock to his block, now his body is terminal
All hands on deck if they come for me
I'm pullin' yo' card if they summon me
You jokers transparent, I see through your poker face
Watch how man'll fold in front of me (B*t*h!)

You in a awkward position
He cookin' 'til I bring the mop in the kitchen (Yeah!)
So stop it when I let it pop off the belt
Best believe that this is not a prop' that I'm grippin'
See I'm not concerned wit' who hot and who isn't
You just mad 'cause we hot and you isn't
I jumped out the sky wit' my Glock and my b*t*hes
You Brock, couldn't handle a thot in yo' bidness (Thot in yo' bidness)
I'm hot 'cause I'm already clocked for conviction
I stopped makin' wishes and put in the difference
These ten-thousand hours like rocks in the kitchen
Not stoppin' or switchin' the ultimate vision (Stoppin' or switchin' the ultimate vision)
And I scope wit' precision (Pew!)
Dot on the chopper like Sharingan shot and it not finna miss him (Not finna miss him)
F**k is this talkin' subliminal shots and then slip when you walk like you not wit' that bidness? (Like you not wit' that bidness?)
Y'all just some b*t*hes (B*t*h)
But if y'all wit' the sh*ts, then I am, too
Glock lockin' and twistin', no Cantu (Yuh)
But we rub up yo' b*t*h, she get ran through (Hahahaha)
Brain take a vacation, no lampoons
Gang takin' ya bae and ya bands, too (Yeah-Yeah)
Claims sayin' I'm great wasn't planned, dude
Lames labelled the same, where ya fans, fool?

Aye! (Hahaha)

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