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Son of Vincenzo
Weekend with b*t*hes, they all tryna XO
Throwing it back like she retro
Shutting it down from Brooklyn to Bristol
(It's f**kin' Nyck Caution, you filthy motherf**kers)
Yeah, ayy

Son of Vincenzo
Weekend with b*t*hes, they all tryna XO
Throwing it back like she retro
Shutting it down from Brooklyn to Bristol
Stick to the script, bro
Got me inside of the pit, when I flip it's a sh*t show
I be outside like Skidrow
Game in a chokehold, feel like I'm Henzo

Hop out the Benzo, don't take no Benzos
Did the groundwork like I'm Bezos
If they try crossin' the fence, treat the pu**y likе Fredo
Repay with 'em halos
Rеally, she want a good guy like Tilly
When it's cold outside it's chilling
Either way, we still make killings
Nah, f**k it, I'm calling out plays
In private, not public, that's where you f**k up
All eyes, not love, they pray for demise
'Cause these tides not tough, rough times don't last
Those guys not us, trust, big trust
Small team, big bus
Touch road, big bucks
Come home, get uh
Trust, big trust
Small team, still clutch
God please, don't judge
Stay down, came up
Lust, no love, trust no one
Can't be lit with no plug
Stamps on bricks, beams on mugs
Screams, then blood, screams, more blood
residue my fingers
Blood on my dollar bills, demon time
I hope that God don't interfere and take the wheel
Leave my guns to my children
I just put that on my will, on my will
A b*t*h can never Jada Pinkett Meech, not in a billion years
A sl*t will tell a million lies just to f**k a million (years)
Trust me, I got a hundred thousand stories in my head
Them numbers really here, that's why she give me head

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