I gotta get low man, pray my pistol don't jam Give this to my fam and send my love to the block Heavy on the loads every time we hit the road man Everything's a go tell me you ready or not Pull up in a hell just to wish the haters well Crack the window you can smell when I'm peeling out the lot Trunk full of bells and my pedal to the metal Cause I'm not a fan of twelve, middle finger to the law In some fast, doing the dash and that bitch digital, digital Hitting the gas, hope I don't crash, shit can get critical, critical Ain't punch the clock, I'm on the block, hood politicals Who you know flood in intervals, still getting good residuals Tunnel my vision, buried my ears, speak at a minimal Feel it in the air, along with za, ohh what a miracle I already know how this gon go you niggas predictable Yeah Please don't bang my line and try to cop now Playing in that water boy you might drown Got Da O with me even when I'm not round I got work in the air about to touchdown Better get it while its good like the stock down Rolling with my top down Moving how I wanna cause its my town Fuck a hitter I'm that nigga after all If I don't do nothing man I know that I'm a ball I gotta get low man, pray my pistol don't jam Give this to my fam and send my love to the block Heavy on the loads every time we hit the road man Everything's a go tell me you ready or not Pull up in a hell just to wish the haters well Crack the window you can smell when I'm peeling out the lot Trunk full of bells and my pedal to the metal Cause I'm not a fan of twelve, middle finger to the law Quick to get them bells gone, do the dash if twelve come A hundred in that Tesla got me swerving through the block Got em and they low, charging twenty-six a bowl Soon as I get em let em go and you can smell em when they drop Love to trap my bread long, chopper knock his head off You can try to run but you won't make it to tomorrow Fuck a rat who said some, go to jail ain't saying none Niggas know we thuggin middle finger to the law, aye Pop a perc now I'm on demon time Five percent we sliding foreign and you can't see inside We get the drop, spin on they block and we let bullets fly You throw that four then its forever ain't no switching sides Hope these niggas don't try to test us Invested in them killers, play with me and they shoot neck up McGrady in his prime tell them niggas run they check up Quick to tuck this chain and show you where my respect from I gotta get low man, pray my pistol don't jam Give this to my fam and send my love to the block Heavy on the loads every time we hit the road man Everything's a go tell me you ready or not Pull up in a hell just to wish the haters well Crack the window you can smell when I'm peeling out the lot Trunk full of bells and my pedal to the metal Cause I'm not a fan of twelve, middle finger to the law