(Buck, should I get it?) (Yah-yah-yah-yah!)
(Ah!) Aye, aye, aye
Uh (push), okay (buh), okay (buh, buh)
Yuh, yuh, wha-wha-wha-wha-what?
K9 unit in your 8-0
I'm getting paper, like Times (aye)
On the end of my Glock 18, there is a light (aye)
On the end of my AK, bitch, I keep a knife
Hoe, I'm feeling like Bane how I break a bitch spine, huh (aye)
Rappers best get with the times
If you sending a message, bitch, I don't reply
We steady puffing on medical
Why am I so fucking goated? Can't even deny, bitch
I'm smoking green jalapeño
Just made about 3005, like Gambino (okay)
I'm making hits, Great Bambino
I'm stealing shots, like a free throw
I'm taking chains, like I'm Debo
My beam the same color as Rio (aye, aye)
I'm dodging bullets, like Neo (aye, aye)
I got an O (bitch), I need three, though
I need me three blunts, like I'm Greedo
I hit the blunt, I can't motherfuckin' breathe, though (yah-yah-yah!)
Choppa like a broom how ya team get swept
Shawty wanna fuck, but I swear, we just met
Two on the ball, like I'm playing for the Mets
That boy fake, his personality a rep
Move like a tightrope, watch how he step
I heard what they be on, and that ain't no threat
I'm coming at all of their necks, like I'm strep
You ain't even got no set, yeah
I'm getting bread like a lease
If you got money, they all want a piece
I keep my head down because I like the peace
This shit too hot, like a 1000 degrees (aye, aye, okay)
Like, all of that shit I can see
Bitch, I was born with the team (aye, okay)
Bitch, I was born with a beam
There's nothing that is as it seems (aye)
I'm steady puffing the green (aye)
I had to blow off some steam (bitch)
I'm running this hoe like a damn supervisor
808 make this bitch jump, energizer
I'm flowing like water, my wrist like a geyser (okay)
Keeping your mouth shut, can't be any wiser
Got Louis V goggles, I look like a diver
I'm puffing on diesel, I feel like the driver
When it come to this shit, there ain't nobody fire
I keep a blade on my hip, like I'm Myers
Me and the mob on the move, finna stunt again
Glock made him shuffle, he doing the running man
Don't hit my line if you asking for funds again
Don't hit my line, 'cause I'm out of the fucks to give
Dissing my opps, and I know they can't stomach it
Dissing on Х2, I'm knowing, they fronting then
Pull out the chopper, percussion like pots and pans
Every shot that you sent didn't fucking land
Had to plot out the whole plan
My flow Beretta, that bitch never jam
I'm keeping metal like basketball stands that put you underground
Underneath all the sand
Got big drums, I ain't talking no band
If he got s'um to say, then he's gon' meet my hand
All that shit you been saying don't make you no man
KarmaMob up, and we ain't gonna land
KarmaMob death machine spinning up
Bitch!