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(Free dem boys, free dem boys) Pandemic almost over, what you say (Where that paper at?) Will used to be a killer, but you done changed Wrote a statement on your nigga, this shit be crazy You ain't going for a thing, I used to praise him (Veno gon' cook up, he mix the ingredients) I still miss my niggas V-Live, favorite, I'll trip in this bitch I ain't goin' in 'less the pole come too Bust down Richard but my ho one too You ain't gotta ask, nigga, know I'm shootin' On Rece, on Rob, on Neff, on Scooter, I ain't lettin' shit slide Mr. I'll-Still-Walk-Shit-Down, Fanta lookin' dirty, thirty-six for a pound, not cookie All the drug dealers wanna book me Paid to get you killed, I ain't payin' for no pussy And I'm kinda schooled, don't shit, beat you triple Ask about me, youngin', dawg, he always on the mission Always first to shoot with that .30, I act different If he ain't dead, guarantee that nigga crippled, my bad You still on the phone, yeah, with Drekk fine ass Last time tryna love, shit, I hope it work Still holdin' for my youngin' really fightin' murders First time on the hit, I was kinda nervous (Swear) You ain't into suckin' dick, you don't need my number Letras de cancionesAll about the money, all about the bag Tracks kinda cool but I still fuck with 'Cats Spin the block on 'em, throw them bitches at his neck Can't forget about me, bitches know I'm still the catch Million dollars in cash, you will get stretched I still miss my niggas V-Live, favorite, I'll trip in this bitch I ain't goin' in 'less the pole come too Bust down Richard but my ho one too You ain't gotta ask, nigga, know I'm shootin' On Rece, on Rob, on Neff, on Scooter, I ain't lettin' shit slide Mr. I'll-Still-Walk-Shit-Down, Fanta lookin' dirty, thirty-six for a pound, not cookie Know I fuck with James Harden but I'll never leave the rocket 'Fore I let her waste my time, I put on all my watches Thousand dollar jeans, my momma told me, "Son, that's outta pocket" Literally holdin' thirty pairs of Amiri jeans 'Member doin' shows for a rack, I drove four hours for that My folks shared a hotel with the gang, I brought like four hundred back Ridin' 'round with pistols in our laps, we ain't runnin' no track Lot of niggas cap, Ion't wanna boss but I took off my hat I was twenty years old when I stole my momma coat, we was at TJ Maxx Now it's foreigns in the driveway, which one I'm gon' drive today? Told the opps, "I got manners, one of you niggas wanna die today?" Dumpin' back, hangin' out the window, have 'em dancin' like Sada Baby Know a Blood don't watch football 'less he bang 'gainst the Redskins Twenty racks on Cuban links, not African-American Put them chains on then went way faster Feel like a ex-slave master I still miss my niggas V-Live, favorite, I'll trip in this bitch (Trip in this bitch) I ain't goin' in 'less the pole come too Bust down Richard but my ho one too You ain't gotta ask, nigga, know I'm shootin' On Rece, on Rob, on Neff, on Scooter, I ain't lettin' shit slide Mr. I'll-Still-Walk-Shit-Down, Fanta lookin' dirty, thirty-six for a pound, not cookie All the drug dealers wanna book me Still movin', talkin' 'bout no cookies All the drug dealers wanna book me All the drug dealers wanna book All the drug dealers wanna book me From Letras Mania