Details (feat. Conway the Machine)

Look, you want that shit, that'll get you killed
Most of my niggas can't rap, but they got pistol skills
Watch how quick your whole shit get peeled
Thought it was squads, my shooter can't ditch your dishes still

They say my music give 'em a different feel
I'm still sellin' cookies like I'm Mrs. Phil
Young at 17, movin' fishes still
Just to see how the Richard Mille on the wrist is felt

This shit for real, it's the kid with the twisted grill
But the bitch is still double-tappin' on my bitches still
I'm with my niggas in the trenches still
They hidin' wonders in the a-ratted store behind the end from ilk (fact!)

Listen, my nigga, chill, don't think it's sweet, since I did the deal
I will pop your forehead and lift it still
Drive-by's donor with Bruce Willis scale
Right hand shootin' while my left hand grip the pull

Rich or poor, we know the prices in the liquor store
And those the type of details niggas listen for, hah?
You bitch and poor, it sound like yo don't use your wrist no more
And those the details that niggas listen for

It's all in the details, nigga, details, nigga
Those the type of shit that niggas listen for
(For real, for real; crt-rt, crt-rt) hol' on, man ('kay)
I just pulled the V12 up to get detailed up, motherfucker (I fuckin' ghosted)

Urgh, I did half my life on the eye stretch
You ask me my sign, I say a pistol in the pyrex (yeah)
Skinny nigga, but really I'm a non-ex'
Haters like he's still alive, I'm like, "Why, pussy?"

You ain't tried yet, you better chill, I talk to niggas like Serena Will' (I don't)
You talk to niggas, like you need a deal (you grow)
Let a nigga act ill, like he think he could see me (like he could see me)
And that drink gon' come around, like it's lookin' for Kiki (it's lookin' for Kiki; huh)

You tell me why I gotta worry
Niggas been bitch half their career, they Tyler Perry
I send a word and they gotta get you
My young boy's a magazine, he got a lot of issues (he got you)

Yeah (yeah), I ain't met a nigga that all fierce to Tyson and me
All I need is a little of your ear, ain't no fightin' me
I been long sold a little that I cares
Either get mine, or I'ma get the chair (ayy, ayy; yeah)

Rich or poor, we know the prices in the liquor store
And those the type of details niggas listen for, hah?
You bitch and poor, it sound like yo don't use your wrist no more
And those the details that niggas listen for

It's all in the details, nigga, details, nigga
Those the type of shit that niggas listen for
That niggas listen for (yeah; how long, man?)
And it goes, "I just pulled the V12 up to get detailed up, motherfucker" (uh, yeah)

Wicked, wicked, wicked, wicked with the rock, wicked with for real
Wicked, wicked, wick-ked with the rock, two twos, for real
Wicked, wicked, wicked, wicked with the rock, wicked, wicked for real
Wicked, wicked, wick-ked with the rock, two twos, for real