[Intro: Young Slo-Be]
(Legend made another one)
Ayy (It's the gang)

[Verse 1: Young Slo-Be]
Pull up on a bad bitch like, "How you doing?" N***a
Bitch, I'm Piru, ayy, I'm a rude n***a
21, full-court press, how you do it, n***a?
N***a, pass the pole if you ain't gon' shoot the n***a
Ayy, ayy, baby, wait your turn
Now I'm in a bitch face like, "Bitch, what you earn?" (What you earn, bitch?)
Twenty, forty, fifties, bitch, this ain't enough
Baby, I'ma cut you off since you acting tough (Gotta go, bitch)
Ooh-wee, get these n***as out the politics
Done lost a fumble in the field, you known for droppin' shit
Ain't nobody in your crew known for poppin' shit
Look, n***a, I'm in contact with the jailbirds (Free the thugs, n***a)
We know n***as slide last 'cause they tell first ('Cause they tell first)
Yeah, I know you don't love your homie 'causе the bail work (The bail work)
Got a couple packs, I'ma sеnd it through the mail first, mail first, mail first (Ayy, ayy, ayy, ayy, ayy)
Ooh-wee, get these n***as out the politics (Get 'em outta here)
Fuck the suckas, the feds love us and it's obvious (Ayy, ayy)
I don't even wanna rap, rather knock a bitch (Ayy)
Here I go talkin' brazy
Look, n***a, you got some n***as that ain't gettin' out
Why you tripping, n***a? You got away with your lil' skit
I know, I smoke dope so I don't remember it
Ayy (It's the gang)
Ooh-wee, get these, man, I'm gone, n***a
[Verse 2: DaBoii]
Yeah
Get 'em, then I'm gone, n***a
On me, nah, for sure, n***a
The n***a run up on me like he tweaking, I'ma show n***as
Call plays like the coach, n***a
My bitch don't wear Coach, n***a
And you ain't gon' do shit with that lil' strap, bitch, you just boast with it
Yeah, we call the opps LOLs 'cause they jokes, n***a
Boy, don't bring no extra n***as 'round me, them is your n***as
Which gun I wanna rock today? I eeny, miny, moe with it
N***a keep saying he gon' do what? He off coke, n***a
Yeah, keep saying you gon' do what? Why you lyin', Craig?
Bitch, what I spent on my neck, I could buy a 'Vette
Fuck these lil' n***as shooting at? N***a, find a net
Let a n***a speak up on my brother, bitch, you dyin' next
Yeah, and, bitch, we comin' for your top, we don't shoot knees
It's a thousand dollars for a pair of shoes, but they two-threes
Bitch couldn't have the old me or the new me
On FaceTime with Slo with a dub, he like, "Ooh-wee," n***a