[Intro: Jim Jones]
You gotta catch that beat
You know, the beat, you gotta come
You gotta merge with that shit
You gotta merge with that shit, like we been takin'—

[Verse 1: Jim Jones]
Trips to the Chi' way before they put the 'Raq in it (Let's talk about it)
That ball in my hand way before I put a pack in it
It was a good neighborhood way before they put the crack in it (I remember)
Now I'm at dice games, in the bank, got like a hundred stacks in it, n***a
There's only the truth that I can spit (Facts)
So may the Lord strike me down if there was a coupe that I ain't whip (Amen)
Let's talk about it (Uh-huh)
'Causе yeah, we do the jеts too (Uh-huh)
Got my team jumpin' on them shits just like the Jets do (Trust that)
Lookin' at NuttSO like these n***as ain't rappin' right (Uh-uh)
Talk about movies, but I swear these n***as ain't actin' right
If my n***as do a movie then these n***as ain't comin' back to life
I drop a bag on your head then that includes the whole taxing price (What's the tab, n***a?)
They catch a body, then I'ma catch a flight (Gone, n***a)
That's what I'm on, yo, that's the facts of life
These bitches start like Tubi with them BBL booties
I started with a whole pie then we would sell 'em as cuties (Break that down)
We outside, n***a, what the fuck we need a office for? (We need a office for)
We could do the yachts too, we could dock them shits off the shore (We can do all that shit)
I could tell you the price ain't the same thing what it cost before (I'm getting money)
And I'm still pourin' champagne for all my n***as that I lost at war
[Interlude: G Herbo]
Swerve
Ayy, Capo, what up?
Let's get it
You a street n***a, I'm a street n***a too, just like you
Uh, yeah

[Verse 2: G Herbo]
Made n***as get off they asses, I'm who taught 'em how to trap
Turn a quarter to a half, then switch to grass, got tired of crack (Know that)
If it's static, put on all black masks, go handle that (Uh-huh)
If you savage, give him a face shot, don't kill him behind his back (Nah)
It's a lot of n***as sayin' slick shit behind my back (Uh-huh)
They don't say much when we face up, I don't think 'bout 'em, n***as ain't tough
No handshakes, n***as can't touch me, I don't fake kick it, get away from me
Barely havin' conversations if the topic ain't money
This time might go 'Rari truck, get a new Urus, spend eight hundred
Go hard every day for all them lonely nights I ain't had nothing
Now I'm doing my thing, I'm on top of the food chain (Yeah)
Might be best get you a lane
AR-15 get to sprayin' like the shooter got mood swings, uh