Verse 1
Slow pokes they making jokes about the old folks
You so mentally broke, you gonna go broke
Think you bout some action, b**h you ain't a GoPro
Think you making moves, b**h you move in slow-mo
Forty-nine thousand, Bayerische Moto
Forty-nine thousand b**hes in the moto!
Forty-nine thousand, rockin' Yamamoto
Forty-nine thousand shirts with the logos
I'm not crying b**h, I just put in my Rohto's
All the dreams and aspirations of the rose gold
Want my teeth so covered one day, I can bite bone
Crush 'em up and spit the dust into the microphone
Hook
You get what you get
That's until they catch us flipping out and throwing a fist
The path a**igned at the beginning of the story won't fit
Til' I can take it to the tailor and restore it again, yeah
Restore the old fit, yeah
Gonna do it better than historically did
We giving birth
Best believe it in the morning we sick
Verse 2
What's cracking? I'm back yeah, rocking a different jacket
You whack, I'm fantastic, making my way up the brackets
Make that sh** a cla**ic, then run up the racks up in Saks Fifth
I'm making a rueben, I'm stacking the bread on the cabbage
You better get movin', the way that you movin' in traffic
Sensational when I'm racing through
No alias, gave my name to you
You watching me, no pay per view
Watching you, you pay for views
Funds for greatness one way to lose
I only pay when I pay my dues
Or when I pay my dudes
What's the catch?
All this acting make you act far fetch
Keep on talking on it like you next
That seems to be a bit of a stretch
Ay, make my stomach retch
Ay, make my stomach retch
Ooh, early in the morning make my stomach retch
(Hook)
Verse 3
Don't talk about it, just be about it
Always hear about it, let's see about it
Don't talk about it, just be about it
Always hear about it, let's see about it
Don't talk about it, just be about it
Always hear about it, let's see about it
Don't talk about it, just be about it
Always hear about it, let's see about it
f** the consfusion, f** all the talking let's do it
Tell me who bad and who boujee
Shock you, no Zulu
Think she a hippy, she groovy, I told the kid she should move it
Still sick in the morning time, still in the 49
Still in the dungeon, and we still keep it fortified
Bunkin' in the dungeon, f**ed your mother once or twice
With my brothers doing numbers, I hope you heard me right