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(Whiteboy came with the bag like it's Christmas) Yeah, yeah I put that shit on, I put that drip on Niggas'll do anything just to get on I treat that money like G's I'ma sit on Whole hundred racks in the mattress, I flip 'em Fresh like a newborn, I sleep with like two on Whole lotta Glocks but I just bought a new one I put that dick in her spine [?] I need like two more 'cause baby I'm too on Don't check the score, I keep balling, I keep scoring Glock got a thirty, spent thirty my left arm Fuck up the profits, I'm saving the rest of 'em Lost all my niggas, I ball with the rest of 'em Gripping the glizzy, the trigger, you catch one You can't compare, you can see I'm the best one I got a check pushing loads, that's an and one These niggas [?] for a handgun I know you love me, I'm rich and I'm handsome Grandma, I made it, you proud of your grandson I took the game and I hold it for ransom I got that flow, I ran hundreds of bands up I got a play on the way I gotta answer Rackzz, he get money, but know he gon' blam some I need a dime for a verse, get your fans Whiteboy, he came with a bag just like Santa From Letras Mania