[Verse 1]
They be like ain't you that little girl that had that tape Winters Diary
Now you out here rapping
Thought you only could do R&B
No sweetie I spit too
Probably harder than ya n***a do
Give his a** a little math cla**
Come find out what them triggas do
Trigonomics, hella shapes
Small circles, no space
New n***as y'all not allowed
Put a lock pad on them f**ing gates
Lock pad on my phone case
Cause I don't do no talking man
Little n***as wanna beef with me
Better move around like a silly fan
AC, I'm A1
I be at, but got two guns
That's more fun, just pick one
Watch ya mouth, I put it on ya tongue
Don't f** with me homie
These b**hes think that they know me
Ain't talking bout no liquor store
When I tell em' grab that forty
Go bang bang like Chief Keef
Thank God for that retweet
Picked up on that 3hunna
Now my name buzzing like a f**ing bee
Now n***as can't get enough
I'm holding weight like a freight truck
New auditions for Stomp the Yard
These whack hoes better step it up
What up Chicago
I'm on that drill flow
These b**hes think it's sweet
Meet my alter ego
They say I'm hella crazy
They say I'm outta my mind
Don't get it confused
That's just that alter ego coming alive
What up Chicago
I'm on that drill flow
These b**hes think it's sweet
Meet my alter ego
They say I'm hella crazy
They say I'm outta my mind
Don't get it confused
That's just that alter ego coming alive