text: Yeah, hey
  Hey
  I had fell to the ground, I was down with no damn money
  With nobody else around, fuck my friends, I got dead homies
  Fuck the feds and the stress, but we gotta keep that bread comin
  Yeah, I can tell you bout the rest
  I been dreamin bout these blue hundreds
  Pull out me a vette, watch I land on it 
  Molly color tan, look like sand on it 
  Bag , got it color coded 
  Im hollerin at my mans, he just copped a Rover 
  What you need nigga? Place your order 
  This shit in from across the border 
  Gunna good with that Florida water 
  These Givenchys came from Mr. Porter 
  Im one hundred but I blew a quarter 
  Young nigga might be fucking on your daughter
  I dont give a damn, I wont ever love her 
  Young Gunna the man, aint no damn nother 
  I used to go scam with my scam brothers 
  Had to feed my fam, eat that bread and butter 
  I feel like a man, I aint fail my mother
  Ever since I was a child, we been had each other
  Ima grind, get that dough, Ima grind, get that dough
  Ima grind, get that dough, yeah 
  Still got junkies knockin on my door, yeah
  Ima have to order me some more, yeah 
  Ima grind, get that dough, Ima grind, get that dough
  Ima grind, get that dough, yeah 
  I looked at my wrist, I got it froze, yeah 
  I cant sleep, Im dreamin bout some more racks
  I had fell to the ground, I was down with no damn money
  With nobody else around, fuck my friends, I got dead homies
  Fuck the feds and the stress, but we gotta keep that bread comin
  Yeah, I can tell you bout the rest
  I been dreamin bout these blue hundreds
  Fuckin your old ho in my new condo 
  Fuckin’ with some locs, I got blue hunchos 
  All my niggas ruthless and real cut-throat 
  Im just tryna get these Ms and go swim, lil boat 
  I was layin in the bed, daydreamin bout these dead presidents
  Then it started comin 
  Two tone presidential Rollie cost some money 
  Forty one big faces, aint no 
  All white ‘vette, call it snow bunny 
  Cuban link, this shit so flooded 
  I fuck her on a mink and she came on it 
  I told her if its real, put my name on it 
  Neighborhood Six O, I got stain homie 
  I hope all you lames keep on hatin on it 
  Big house on a lake, got it gate coded 
  If you know this shit was comin, you would wait won’t you?
  Ima grind, get that dough, Ima grind, get that dough
  Ima grind, get that dough, yeah 
  Still got junkies at the door, yeah 
  I might cook me up some more, yeah
  Ima grind, get that dough, Ima grind, get that dough
  Ima grind, get that dough, yeah 
  Plain Jane, I got it froze, yeah 
  Bout to count me up some more racks 
  I had fell to the ground, I was down with no damn money
  With nobody else around, fuck my friends, I got dead homies
  Fuck the feds and the stress, but we gotta keep that bread comin
  Yeah, I can tell you bout the rest
  I been dreamin bout these blue hundreds