[Intro]
Hit a button, Morty, give me a beat!
(Oh man, okay, alright, um-)

[Verse 1: Saint G]
People look at me like I'm insane, uh (Yeah)
They on the ground, but I'm in a plane, yeah
They don't know what's in my fuckin' brain
But they think my sound is fuckin' fire, yeah, they think it's flames
Alright

[Bridge: Quadeca & Saint G]
Ayy
Yeah, they think its fuckin' flames
Uh, yeah, ooh (One time)
Yeah, ooh (RaeSam on the beat!)

[Verse 2: Quadeca & Saint G]
They think its fuckin' flames, in my lane
Talkin' to that bitch, I been in my brain, yeah
Yeah, now she give me brain
I just do this shit, now they knowin' my name, yeah
'Cause these snitches, they be switchin' lanes
I'm livin' my facts, you're just makin' claims
I told 'em, "I'm not in it for the fuckin' fame"
I just want a gold song before a gold chain
[Chorus 1: Quadeca & Saint G, both]
Ayy, so what the fuck you heard?
When these haters see me, they just duck and swerve (Hey, yeah, huh, ayy, yeah)
I was kicked to the fuckin' curb
Now they always gotta ask me, "What's the word?" (Ayy, yeah, ayy!)

[Verse 3: Quadeca & Saint G]
We cookin' in the stu', we got all the sauces (Oh, ayy)
Bitch, I'm independent, I ain't got no bosses
Yeah, I keep on winnin', I ain't got no losses
They ask me for the keys, like the fuckin' locksmith (Oh, ayy)
Locksmith, yeah, you know I'm doin' hot shit (Oh, ayy, [?], hahaha)
Hot shit, they all like it when I drop shit
You pop shit, I'm like, "Why the fuck you talkin'?" ([?])
I walk in, everybody they be rockin'
Ayy!

[Verse 4: Saint G, Quadeca]
So now they finally like the flow
These people 'round me used to doubt me, now they know
You peepin' out my wrist, I know you feelin' cold (Oh shit!)
Steady makin' hits, I'm comin' for the gold

[Interlude: Quadeca, Saint G]
Ayy, that was good, "You peepin' out my wrist, I know you feelin' cold"
Yeah, 'cause you're also salty, 'cause you ain't got this shit
You know?
Ayy, yeah, heh
[Verse 5: Quadeca]
Peepin out my wrist, I know you're feelin' cold
Uh, fuckin' on that bitch, I know I'm feelin' bold
Uh, yeah, I make a hit, just look how much I sold
Ayy, ayy, ayy, I can just not be controlled—

[Chorus 2: Saint G & Quadeca, both]
Ayy, so what the fuck you heard?
When these haters see me, they just duck and swerve, yaw! (Aha, aha, aha, aha—)
I was kicked to the fuckin' curb (—Hahahahahahahaha, aha!)
Now they always gotta ask me, "What's the word?"

[Outro: Saint G & Quadeca, both]
Ayy! Ayy, yeah, ha, hey
Yaw! (Hahaha, hahaha... haha—)
(—Hahahahahahahaha- ha! Ahaha—)
—I mean, you're not gonna say the, "Yaw!"
Swerve, yaw! (Ha, ha, hahahahaha...)