[Chorus]
And I'm gonna treat you good
Ayy, baby

[Verse 1: Pusha T & Ab-Liva]
Real bars are the ill bars
These scars are the only real proof they couldn't kill gods
My coke hand is still sketchin' out my memoirs
What I did to door panels on them Windstars
Gem stars, left cuts in the dinner plates, it's new stash spots
The AC don't just ventilate, take over your blocks
Young n***as assimilate, we all break bread
Like going Dutch on a dinner date
The love of your life rap n***a wear fake watches
The serial numbers don't match the gift boxes
The bezel on her ballon bleu do the Tinashe
The bitch told me two-tone Rollies was too blasé
Way more chemical than political
PTSD from what I did on the digital
It was snowfall and Reagan gave me the visual
Obama opened his doors knowing I was a criminal

[Chorus]
And I'm gonna treat you good
Ayy, baby
[Verse 2: Pusha T & Ab-Liva]
I just built the 488 from ground zero
Just to show the children, the ghetto make superheroes
Known the first names of the dealers at the casino
You gotta play the ball and they calling me Rick Pitino
Never play Rino, flying to Monte Carlo
Moschino paint splatter, I'm feeling like Winnie Harlow
I done played Marlo, the many Ricky Ricardo
Cali cartel, we season three with the narcos
Even off-season, we on still
Don't respect the board of order flag, so we gon' kneel
Arms in a lock as reminiscing, Martin's premonition
These white men's calling you sons of bitches
We still being changed if you reminiscing
Even Stevie seen it with the beats on superstition
This ain't a new religion, you n***as dance around like new edition
We just some dope boys with a newer vision

[Chorus]
And I'm gonna treat you good
Ayy, baby

[Instrumental Bridge]

[Chorus]
And I'm gonna treat you good
Ayy, baby