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Lit, no cig Clean Sprite mixed with no lean We smoke straight dope, ain't no seeds in it Clean Sprite, put some lean in it Rockstars, got some G's in it Real killas, they don't leave witness Tax season, boy, your car rented Bitch you boostin', you got no business Call my shooters, they got no limits I'm just rockin' in my True Religions Got a Glock with a beam Bada boom, bada bing Ops not on a thing (Let's get it!) We need some real big rings Netflix and chill let's watch some Narcos And my cup the color Harpo Got fifty in these cargos Used to sit and watch my car doors Valet ask me how to park those I'm scannin' niggas like a barcode Fake designer, that's a no-no We rockin' rollies fuck a Jo-Jo Letras de cancionesWe smoke straight dope, ain't no seeds in it Clean Sprite, put some lean in it Rockstars, got some G's in it Real killas, they don't leave witness Tax season, boy, your car rented Bitch you boostin', you got no business Call my shooters, they got no limits I'm just rockin' in my True Religions Money got me Bowflexin' Balmain, no Paris Pussy 'bout to get the message Before I have my youngins stressin' I told 'em I'ma turn up on em Killed his ass, we run up on 'em We hawk 'em down, we run up on 'em His tweets said he keep 'em on him I'm just coolin' as a rapper My niggas know that I be trappin' To the streets I'm so adapted Fuck the state, they took my rappy We smoke straight dope, ain't no seeds in it Clean Sprite, put some lean in it Rockstars, got some G's in it Real killas, they don't leave witness Tax season, boy, your car rented Bitch you boostin', you got no business Call my shooters, they got no limits I'm just rockin' in my True Religions From Letras Mania