[Intro: Sauce Walka]
(DamJonBoi)
Ooh-wee
Mhm
Splash
Ooh-wee

[Verse 1: Sauce Walka]
Real gangster, I ain't wearing no fanny pack
Louis V monogram jeans, where the blammy at?
Only way I'm sleeping with the bitch if she pay me that
Seven rings on like I'm Tom Brady, running back
She flew in to steal your money and you ordered that
Hatin' on me, but drive a Buick, you afforded that
In my early twenties, touching millions, had a Covid sack
Dropped a crazy eight Adidas check on some Maybachs

[Verse 2: Peso Peso]
Eight Moncler bubble coats, just dropped off a brick
Reach for the neck like it's sweet and get popped in your shit
Your bitch can go mountain climbin' with these rocks on my wrist
SRT Hellcat, I might just slide in thе pit

[Verse 3: Certified Trapper]
All them bricks that I twisted, man, my wrist need an AP
Twenty tee flawlеss, lil' n***a dropped an eight-piece
Hit a n***a's shit from a distance, cost an AGs
Get on n***a ass with the switch, sold me fake P's
[Verse 4: BabyTron]
Poppin' tens out the 'script, we slappin' pressed ones
Bitch asking me questions, she must think that this a press run
Thirty-two degrees around my neck, it got my chest numb
We don't hit the range, we hop in traffic when we test guns

[Verse 5: Sauce Walka]
In the booth with the phone in my hand
I ain't reading no raps, the ho just made thirty bands
Sippin' syrup in the Maybach, makin' plans
Got a ho up in Japan, finna fly her to Thailand
Might pour a four of syrup up in the can
Lean hit me so hard, I could barely even stand
Diamonds on my hand Roku controller
Bitch see them lights flash, now she tryna sleep over

[Verse 6: Peso Peso]
Ayy, bitch tryna sleep over, but I got too many plays
I'm cross country with the hustling, pick up money different states
Look at Peso over there, pulled up in an i8
My n***a locked up gettin' money, shit, I guess crime pays
Ain't doing too much of that talkin', but I take off n***as' fitteds
Me and bro Michael and Franklin how we clearin' every mission
SRT, hop out, but used to shoot out Honda Civic
I grab my chop, rock out, and get to stompin' on the business
[Verse 7: Certified Trapper]
Man, if you up that bitch, better not hesitate
Slid on they block, thirty minutes, you see yellow tape
I see n***as broke and they poor, can't find a better phrase
Finna pour a bitch car note up in this lemonade
Saucin' on the bitch like, yes, I make her spend her pape'
Everything bust, VVS, ask Johnny Dang
Catch him in the alley, meet the stretcher, I ain't fuckin' playing
Get the money counter, bitch, I'm finna start another chain

[Verse 8: BabyTron]
Who is father nature? Hit the club, they call me brother rain
Who you think you foolin' in your uncle watch and brother chain?
You would think I climbed my crib, I got it out the gutter, man
When it come to smoke, we run towards it, you'd run away
It ain't even eight, I'm puffin' eighths and gave my cup an eight
Told the teller, "Grab some floaties, bitch, I'm finna flood the bank"
If we see 'em, buckle up 'cause I can't let 'em run the plates
Used to want a hundred bucks, now what the fuck's a hundred K?
Used to split a meal, but now we eatin' off a hundred plates
They can't figure out how they gon' stop me, hit a hundred— ayy
They can't figure out how they gon' stop me, hit a hundred straight
Thinkin' we some green lights, I guarantee we pump his brakes

[Outro: BabyTron]
ShittyBoyz, Dogshit Militia, long live $cams, you know?
Phew, hey