[Intro]
(I miss you, Bryce)
(Y2, is that you?)
I got soilders, yeah, they wait in the lobby

[Chorus]
Bring that closer, ho got ass, put it on me
Tesla Roadster, switch that out for the 'Rari (Let's go, let's go, let's go, let's go, let's go)
I ain't tryna talk, unless it 'bout racks, lil' baby
I got rich, on God, yeah, all four pockets fat, Lil Baby
Heard they want some smoke, 'kay bet, then we can match it, yeah, yeah
Rock Balenci' with Rick Owen, this bih' matchin' lately
I'm in LA with gang, I'm like, "Let's get tatted", yeah, yeah
I hit Neiman's, spend that bag, then make it backflip, baby
I'm the Balenci' don, what you know about fashion, baby?
I almost crashеd the whip, tryna change my mind, lil' baby
Pleasе stop that actin', my n***as ready to crash, lil' n***a
I'm all 'bout backend, man, my bitch hold my stash, lil' n***a
Get the fuck out the trap, lil' n***a
Get up off my tracks, lil' n***a
Feel like Sosa, countin' for [?]

[Verse]
Spin his block, then spin like tornado
Yo bitch, she on my [?]
She gon' suck me up when I say so
Lil' bro not shootin' for game
Tryna get my n***as free game
[?], tryna bring the gang home
Ain't 'bout money, can't entertain it
No Chrisean Rock, these bluefaces
Twin really on the block with that thing
I was outside shoppin', spent ten (Yeah)
I don't fuck with rap n***as, they lame
I don't fuck with these n***as at all
I don't care if they see me, I ball
I will make sure you eat, you my dawg
Mama see me on TV, oh yeah
Do you love me like Kiki? Oh yeah
Ho pull up, and eat me right now (Skrrt, skrrt)
I got Rick for every season, oh yeah
Girl, you left my heart bleedin', oh yeah
On yo' block, and we creepin', on God
He got smoked in the deep end, on God
[Bridge]
(On yo' block, and we creepin', on God)
(He got smoked in the deep end, on God)

[Chorus]
Bring that closer, ho got ass, put it on me
Tesla Roadster, switch that out for the 'Rari
I ain't tryna talk, unless it 'bout racks, lil' baby
I got rich, on God, yeah, all four pockets fat, Lil Baby
Heard they want some smoke, 'kay bet, then we can match it, yeah, yeah
Rock Balenci' with Rick Owen, this bih' matchin' lately
I'm in LA with gang, I'm like, "Let's get tatted", yeah, yeah
I hit Neiman's, spend that bag, then make it backflip, baby
I'm the Balenci' don, what you know about fashion, baby?
Throw that pack, and then twin catch it, no John Madden, baby
Please stop that actin', my n***as ready to crash, lil' n***a
Ain't nothin' that my gang doin' really average, baby
Get the fuck out the trap, lil' n***a
Get up off my tracks, lil' n***a
Feel like Sosa, countin' for [?]

[Outro]
Ooh, ooh, ooh
Ooh, ooh
Ooh, ooh, ooh
Ooh