text: These niggas got me fucked up
  See em in the street like whats up?
  Catch em down bad, get bust up
  None of my niggas no busters
  All of my niggas got bustdowns
  Run through the sack when I touch down
  Sold em and aint even touched em
  My plug he just landed from Russia
  I go to the hole and I score the bucket
  Pretty lil bitch want to suck it
  Remember them days I had nothing
  I got all this shit off of hustling
  Headshot, my niggas aint aiming at no leg shot
  Red dots, all you little pussy niggas gotta die
  Cook up, I cook up a pie
  Southside and shout out to Pie
  All of my bitches they bi
  Everywhere I got a fire
  I drop the top at the red light
  I get you shot if you say it twice
  Percocet, yeah thats a med night
  I want some head tonight
  You get a verse if your bread right
  Im on a private flight
  I got a bitch, she a head doctor
  Cant say too much cause the feds watching
  Im just bench pressin all these hoes
  Still rockin designer clothes
  White bitch playin with they nose
  Look at that bad bitch on that pole
  We show up and we sell out shows
  You know its bros over hoes
  Chasin that bread til I get it
  Hop in that Vette, Ima hit it
  Im on the way to the riches
  Mission to go get these millions
  Constantly dodgin the sentence
  Hop out, I jump over fences
  Im havin more hoes than Hendrix
  I call up my boy, I pour up a four
  I told you its bros over bitches
  You broke niggas never gon listen
  I won an award, got suicide doors
  Im knockin the doors off the hinges
  I kill it, I dont want to end it
  Got water all over my arm
  I struggled all way to the morn
  They dig it, they say Im a charm
  That ting on me large
  We cashin, not swipin these cards
  Im thinkin bout coppin a Porsche
  And Gunna he gonna get more
  Im just bench pressin all these hoes
  Still rockin designer clothes
  White bitch playin with they nose
  Look at that bad bitch on that pole
  We show up and we sell out shows
  You know its bros over hoes