[Hook]
They like, “Neph, leave that street shit alone”
Bitch, I got good licks and three different phones
Talkin’ all that Whaaa—get gone
N***a nervous, he don’t know what type of time I’m on
At the window, hand-in-hand, I get them hammers gone
Get a 31 gone, no matter what kind of phone
I done ran up 12,000 on Obama phone
I got different bitches on my dick and hearing cold
Yeah, I told her, “You ain’t grindin’, bitch, get out”
You ain’t at the round table, bitch, you gotta sit out
She like, “Neph, my mama right here, don’t pull them pills out”
I’m like, “Girl, your auntiе right there, I got thesе deals out”
Where Stewart and cars here, it’s a pussy house
They look like Backpack Boys—yeah, cookie house
But it ain’t no weed in this bitch, it’s a cookie house
31 grand, perfect circle—it’s a cookie house​

[Verse 1]
Auntie like, “Where the hell you get that wrist from?”
Switch on the Glock—they like, “Where you get that glick from?”
They wanna fuck my bitch like Big Pun
Broke boy ridin’ with an ounce in a pound bag
N***a, I don’t smoke no damn mid—this that za’ pack
Pulled up so damn fresh, they like, “Where your stylist at?”
I can’t trust my mama, ’cause I think that she might set me up
I can’t trust my brother, ’cause I think that he might set me up
Jealousy—that’s why the good die
He won’t take shit from nobody—he a good guy
Bend the corner, jump out on the stain—that was good times
All them damn war stories—boy tellin’ good lies
Auntie like, “Where that last batch?”—that’s the good kind
Bitch talkin’ ’bout, “I’m the only one”—she tellin’ good lies
Drop a bitch off in that 4-0, Sport Plus
You ain’t spend no money on this hit—then shut the fuck up​
[Hook]
They like, “Neph, leave that street shit alone”
Bitch, I got good licks and three different phones
Talkin’ all that Whaaa—get gone
N***a nervous, he don’t know what type of time I’m on
At the window, hand-in-hand, I get them hammers gone
Get a 31 gone, no matter what kind of phone
I done ran up 12,000 on an Obama phone
I got different bitches on my dick and hearing cold
Yeah, I told her, “You ain’t grindin’, bitch, get out”
You ain’t at the round table, bitch, you gotta sit out
She like, “Neph, my mama right here, don’t pull them pills out”
I’m like, “Girl, your auntie right there, I got these deals out”
Where Stewart and cars here, it’s a pussy house
They look like Backpack Boys—yeah, cookie house
But it ain’t no weed in this bitch, it’s a cookie house
31 grand, perfect circle—it’s a cookie house