All In
RubberBand Clan we connected to commas
You don't want smoke duck and hide when it's drama
Buss on the rip double back like some karma
Black bust a script for them yercs at the pharma
Big Raf Boy I'm wherever dat money at
Six Four Creepz we trap where it ain't sunny at
Big bucks bro drop a check for them fat racks
Big play I'm scraping shit need a fat bag
Cut a bitch off she delusional
Raf Boy Creepz in the street and we moving you
It's RubberBand Clan if I'm confusing
RIP Tay man we sorry for losing you
If you ain't money I cannot pursue you
Free El Flippa he got a few screws loose
Connected to commas RBC the Bluetooth
Get it out the mud these niggas won't boost you
Feds asking questions I'm acting all clueless
Hop in the booth off the top bitch I do this
Millions number one on my to do list
I'm a real nigga push up I can prove it
You your own man take my hat off salute it
YG fuck a bitch toot it and boot it
Looked at his background but it was muted
Devil on my shoulders uh I rebuke it
Straight facts when I speak into the mic
Big Raf Boy I got drip and it's tight
Pop me a perc fuck ya hoe for the night
He said he was street but I don't believe the hype
I don't need a gun nigga I can fight
Hop on the beat and I give it all my might
Feds on dicks so we gotta ride light
Raf Boy Creepz leave these lil niggas frightened
He said he was trapping but it's pretend
I'm going up this where it begin
Finesse and get ghost I'm gone in the wind
Nobody was there when my pockets had lint
Drip or the stu where my money get spent
A young nigga focused I'm locked in
They told me stop playing, I tightened up now the kid all in
You don't want smoke duck and hide when it's drama
Buss on the rip double back like some karma
Black bust a script for them yercs at the pharma
Big Raf Boy I'm wherever dat money at
Six Four Creepz we trap where it ain't sunny at
Big bucks bro drop a check for them fat racks
Big play I'm scraping shit need a fat bag
Cut a bitch off she delusional
Raf Boy Creepz in the street and we moving you
It's RubberBand Clan if I'm confusing
RIP Tay man we sorry for losing you
If you ain't money I cannot pursue you
Free El Flippa he got a few screws loose
Connected to commas RBC the Bluetooth
Get it out the mud these niggas won't boost you
Feds asking questions I'm acting all clueless
Hop in the booth off the top bitch I do this
Millions number one on my to do list
I'm a real nigga push up I can prove it
You your own man take my hat off salute it
YG fuck a bitch toot it and boot it
Looked at his background but it was muted
Devil on my shoulders uh I rebuke it
Straight facts when I speak into the mic
Big Raf Boy I got drip and it's tight
Pop me a perc fuck ya hoe for the night
He said he was street but I don't believe the hype
I don't need a gun nigga I can fight
Hop on the beat and I give it all my might
Feds on dicks so we gotta ride light
Raf Boy Creepz leave these lil niggas frightened
He said he was trapping but it's pretend
I'm going up this where it begin
Finesse and get ghost I'm gone in the wind
Nobody was there when my pockets had lint
Drip or the stu where my money get spent
A young nigga focused I'm locked in
They told me stop playing, I tightened up now the kid all in
Credits
Writer(s): Deonte Cooke
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com
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