Verse 1



Black Mags black trash niggas on some bullshit

push me to the edge bet this trigger getting pulled bitch

Loe Bros mo hoes talk about a boat load

Down the rabbit hole to yellow brick from the silk road

Wynwood to south Beach with blizz in the coke Grove

Cup inside a cup and it's bruised like a owie

QAnd I be on the grass all day like the cows be

Golden Dawn flow damn I feel Like Mr. Crowley

How I'm off the perkperk and the xans still rowdy

Hotbox the whip and give a shit if it's cloudy

This shit is bananas gwen stafani couldn't doubt me

Don't care what you thinking bout as long as it's about me

Black mags jet black beauty of the week all that booty on them cheeks

What I do to them cheeks Copy Chuck and made a beat

Bitch I'm flyer than a fleet

bitch I'm dripping I'm on fleek

From the window to the wall bitch I ball Skeet skeet

Want it all or not a thing

All hail your highness the cookie Kush King

Fucking til I brake spring

All fucking spring break

Niggas holla bling bling

And Know they pinky ring fake

Bussdown so busted these bitches get disgusted

Twisting up the face when I know you bitches love it

Don't trip about the score cus we up and finna up it

Bust down like Busta I told the bitch touch it

How you tryna ketchup and to you ain't got mustard

Trynna dodge dummy's getting over on these suckas

Jack son like Sam im with cold Muhfuckas

It's just a bunch of brothas the Ice road truckas

When I'm cumming is the only time I'll tell you that I love ya

Baby imma dog ask my bitch of a mother

And since we on the subject I'm still mutherfuckin

Need sauce in ya life let a nigga know something

Backing up my shit talk cuz niggas be frontin

All my slaps need ProAc everything bumpin

All my slaps need ProAc everything bumpin