I've gotta cook up, I ain't no rook uh (nope)
b*tch said she like my energy I told her book us
Pull off in the rango orange leather it's so tango (yeah)
Sweatsuit to match, lookin' like a damn mango
Pocket bouta hit you with this rocket make some magic (yah)
Levels to this sh*t, top floor I'm in the attic
I don't date no b*tches cause they always act dramatic
Slidin' in my DM's want my number you can't have it
That's till I get a static, sh*t will get traumatic
I don't do no drama I sit pretty like a bad b*tch
My life style so tragic, yay ain't think it's funny
Takin' over tri-state ain't non of you b*tches can not son me
Non of you b*tches can't run me (nope)
Non these b*tches can't run me (hold on)
I'm gettin to the I'm gettin to the I'm gettin, money (hold on)
Be into the bag, yeah your girl is trash (girl is trash)
Gnarly in the party goin' crazy bout to spaz
Yeah I'm next up, gotta get my checks up (damn)
I be in the trap why these b*tches got they legs up (damn)
Yeah I smoke, big weed before you come and touch me (touch me)
Flexin on these b*tches out here twelve-k in two weeks (damn)
Get into the bag, yeah your girl is trash (your girl is trash)
Gnarly in the party goin' crazy bout to spaz
Hold on, yeah I am your dad I don't give a fu*k
Pull up in the coupe or the Bentley truck (damn)