Yeah, yeah
Yeah, yeah, yeah
Yeah, yeah, yeah (Romeo IV)
Yeah, yeah
Big Glock four-oh, yeah
Ridin' in a four door, yeah
We was servin' low-low, yeah
Come get it for the low-low, yeah
Never cuff a ho-ho, yeah
Drive it off like oh-ho, yeah
Take it to they front door, yeah
Never talk to po-po
Man, I got a old soul, yeah
I'm sorry that I got a old soul, yeah
But we only totin' on four-fours
And I'm never breaking the bro code
Do this shit all for my big bro, yeah
I'm sorry that I got a old soul, yeah
Like, can I get a minute? Let a nigga finish
I'm too deep up in it, uh
They hate how I'm winnin', sorry I been sinnin'
They say I'm forgiven, uh
Mad that I can't flip it, I put up them digits
Told 'em go and get it, uh
Find 'em out here spinnin', man they got precision
I know they ain't missing, uh
Tryna please my mama, stackin' up these commas
I'm just like my papa, uh
I ain't with the drama, call me the Don Dada
I move like Obama, uh
Plus I keep a llama and I love the choppas
Bitch I'm like Mufasa, uh
Hotter than a sauna, name a rapper hotter
I'ma say he not a, uh
I'm, I'm in love with Louis, I'm in love with Gucci
She in love with Prada, uh
He say he gon' shoot me, bitch, my life a movie
I get that a lotta
This clip hold a hundred anacondas, stick it in the choppa
Show you who's a shotta, bitch, pick up your partner
Nigga now I got her, you can't say de nada
Big Glock four-oh, yeah
Ridin' in a four door, yeah
We was servin' low-low, yeah
Come get it for the low-low, yeah
Never cuff a ho-ho, yeah
Drive it off like oh-ho, yeah
Take it to they front door, yeah
Never talk to po-po
Man, I got a old soul, yeah
I'm sorry that I got a old soul, yeah
But we only totin' on four-fours
And I'm never breaking the bro code
Do this shit all for my big bro, yeah
I'm from that block where they rob and they kill
Young nigga starvin' and mobbin' for real
Way before rap it was Glocks in the field
Talkin' like that 'cause he probably for real
I was front lines, still will when it get real
Couldn't be a kid, now I'm grown, got a big wheel
Slid on niggas, better ask how the Glick feel
Only Thursday, we done been on six drills
For real, lit with no deal
Still in this bitch while my niggas on pills
All of this ice in this bitch, I'm on chill
Can't do no rap nigga shit, get no grill
Can't be on rap niggas dick I want mills
I really slept in the trap with no meals
I really slept in the trap with them steels
Four seven kick in the door, gotta peel (skrrt, nyoom)
I'm still that nigga
This like my eighth year in rap and I'm richer
I still a bust down and packs with my niggas
I just might walk in the trap with a Richard (Mille)
I close my eyes, I see cap, I see crystals
Open my eyes, I see Kobe, see pistols
Fuck it, I'm gon' get some more of these dividends
I slept in county, can't go in that bitch again (never)
Crushes and felons
Juice make me want put a four in the bitch again
Told you I never look back, you weren't listening
Now I'm so fried, we gotta keep distances
Two niggas bitches, don't tell me what bitches did
I don't do internet, I'm really in this shit
Act like you into that, nah, you ain't innocent (bop, bop)
It ain't no witnesses
Big Glock four-oh, yeah
Ridin' in a four door, yeah
We was servin' low-low, yeah
Come get it for the low-low, yeah
Never cuff a ho-ho, yeah
Drive it off like oh-ho, yeah
Take it to they front door, yeah
Never talk to po-po
Man, I got a old soul, yeah
I'm sorry that I got a old soul, yeah
But we only totin' on four-fours
And I'm never breaking the bro code
Do this shit all for my big bro, yeah
I'm sorry that I got a old soul, yeah