Hall
Ayo
Ayo
Ayo
Ayo, Buscemis with the cages
Camo Valentino off the runway on the corner serving work like a baker
Fiends fallin' out the sky for it
My pack's ten a piece, shot his baby mom's house he thought shit was sweet
Whole team got 300 schemes and McQueen
My nigga got a fresh 15 at McKean, bodies dropping on the regular
My town ain't shit
Get money, get killed, niggas scared to get rich
Look like somebody wrote all over the raps and the drips
White bitch out the six, suckin' dicks speakin' French
That's life for me
I got too many shooters that'll come take a fuck nigga whole life for free
These not Timbs little nigga, these Balmains, please get it right for me
Ayo, they got the flygod hangin' off the cross, rockin' Hugo Boss
Techs with air holes, yo, he had to cool them off
Style on Forbes, I'm talkin' XXL
Told pussy I need a skirt, I sent ten in the mail
Break it down, we all bag, weigh the eights with a hand scale
Grams sell like clockwork, the shootin' was Mach's work
Make sure it lock first, we dealin' for Fox worth
Hopped out the GL Benz over your tens
Wang windbreaker with no wind
Fresh out that cell, I got a brick and a MAC
Maybach back-to-back, wrist need to relax
Been whippin' all night fingers swelling like crack
Yo, what's your name, hun? My name West, what's your digits?
In '98, I wore two Cubans up in Britain, I'm a legend
Let me talk fly for a second
I had you lookin' tall in Giuseppe's
Ayo
Ayo
Ayo, Buscemis with the cages
Camo Valentino off the runway on the corner serving work like a baker
Fiends fallin' out the sky for it
My pack's ten a piece, shot his baby mom's house he thought shit was sweet
Whole team got 300 schemes and McQueen
My nigga got a fresh 15 at McKean, bodies dropping on the regular
My town ain't shit
Get money, get killed, niggas scared to get rich
Look like somebody wrote all over the raps and the drips
White bitch out the six, suckin' dicks speakin' French
That's life for me
I got too many shooters that'll come take a fuck nigga whole life for free
These not Timbs little nigga, these Balmains, please get it right for me
Ayo, they got the flygod hangin' off the cross, rockin' Hugo Boss
Techs with air holes, yo, he had to cool them off
Style on Forbes, I'm talkin' XXL
Told pussy I need a skirt, I sent ten in the mail
Break it down, we all bag, weigh the eights with a hand scale
Grams sell like clockwork, the shootin' was Mach's work
Make sure it lock first, we dealin' for Fox worth
Hopped out the GL Benz over your tens
Wang windbreaker with no wind
Fresh out that cell, I got a brick and a MAC
Maybach back-to-back, wrist need to relax
Been whippin' all night fingers swelling like crack
Yo, what's your name, hun? My name West, what's your digits?
In '98, I wore two Cubans up in Britain, I'm a legend
Let me talk fly for a second
I had you lookin' tall in Giuseppe's
Credits
Writer(s): Westside Gunn
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