Off the Top Freesyle
(We the mutha fuckin opps)
(Yeah)
(Big Bank)
(Aye Jay I'm boutto go off the top)
Servin these junkies like Dion
I'm hot as fuck I jus might need me some freon
I only see green I see neon
You know imma boss I can't hang round no peon
Rich nigga shit that what we on
This trap shit a sport I play two like I'm Dion
12 askin me I ain't see nun
And my niggas bang blood so you know they can't c-none
Even I though I wasn't gone be none
They ruled it over before it begun
Now I got residual
Streamin income
Revenue
Bitch I done ran up my funds
Glock wit a beam
Shootas ahead of you
Treadin you
Dead man as soon as you run
Chosen one but I'm still not the one
Fuck number one cuz we one of one
Call 911 its a fire on the block
That's RSM you ain't hip they been hot
Heard a lot of rumors bout niggas gettin shot
We ain't speaking on nothin let 12 do the job
We 10 toes down
They toes got tags
We put racks in our pockets and bodies in bags
Load up the glizzy get busy
We spin till we dizzy
We back to the jets no lag
Call from the joint
They want favor for favor
Talk about beef that's a flavor I savor
Money for war gotta lotta
My nigaas gone get you up outta
Get smoked like gelotto
Wrapped like a enchilada
They gone hollin like this had to be a insider
Yo bitch im inside her
She gave me the details
I made her describe it
Get a one to moon and then bring it to earth
These one to twenties was one gram at first
Mix it together we bubble like washin detergent
My nigga don't try it ain't worth it
Can't ride on my wave cuz we snorkel don't surf
We not recruitin cuz it ain't no purpose
My bad im sorry im flexin on purpose
Made use of them tips I was making from servin
You wont believe that I started with nothin with all of this shit that I got
Got what you need
Bitch Im Sean Carter always got the rock
(What you mean)
We got pressure by the pound to apply
(Let me see it)
I can't let you touch the pack unless you cop
We only runnin from siren my nigga
I'm clutchin, my finger its right on the trigger
They praising these niggas promoting the fraud
Cant be round no fraud that's one of my triggers
Imma grown ass man can't lil boy
Big boy racks no lil boy beef
Left hand straight dope boy white tee
Black Glock 40
Airmax Nikes
(Yeah)
(Big Bank)
(Aye Jay I'm boutto go off the top)
Servin these junkies like Dion
I'm hot as fuck I jus might need me some freon
I only see green I see neon
You know imma boss I can't hang round no peon
Rich nigga shit that what we on
This trap shit a sport I play two like I'm Dion
12 askin me I ain't see nun
And my niggas bang blood so you know they can't c-none
Even I though I wasn't gone be none
They ruled it over before it begun
Now I got residual
Streamin income
Revenue
Bitch I done ran up my funds
Glock wit a beam
Shootas ahead of you
Treadin you
Dead man as soon as you run
Chosen one but I'm still not the one
Fuck number one cuz we one of one
Call 911 its a fire on the block
That's RSM you ain't hip they been hot
Heard a lot of rumors bout niggas gettin shot
We ain't speaking on nothin let 12 do the job
We 10 toes down
They toes got tags
We put racks in our pockets and bodies in bags
Load up the glizzy get busy
We spin till we dizzy
We back to the jets no lag
Call from the joint
They want favor for favor
Talk about beef that's a flavor I savor
Money for war gotta lotta
My nigaas gone get you up outta
Get smoked like gelotto
Wrapped like a enchilada
They gone hollin like this had to be a insider
Yo bitch im inside her
She gave me the details
I made her describe it
Get a one to moon and then bring it to earth
These one to twenties was one gram at first
Mix it together we bubble like washin detergent
My nigga don't try it ain't worth it
Can't ride on my wave cuz we snorkel don't surf
We not recruitin cuz it ain't no purpose
My bad im sorry im flexin on purpose
Made use of them tips I was making from servin
You wont believe that I started with nothin with all of this shit that I got
Got what you need
Bitch Im Sean Carter always got the rock
(What you mean)
We got pressure by the pound to apply
(Let me see it)
I can't let you touch the pack unless you cop
We only runnin from siren my nigga
I'm clutchin, my finger its right on the trigger
They praising these niggas promoting the fraud
Cant be round no fraud that's one of my triggers
Imma grown ass man can't lil boy
Big boy racks no lil boy beef
Left hand straight dope boy white tee
Black Glock 40
Airmax Nikes
Credits
Writer(s): William Smith
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com
Link
© 2025 All rights reserved. Rockol.com S.r.l. Website image policy
Rockol
- Rockol only uses images and photos made available for promotional purposes (“for press use”) by record companies, artist managements and p.r. agencies.
- Said images are used to exert a right to report and a finality of the criticism, in a degraded mode compliant to copyright laws, and exclusively inclosed in our own informative content.
- Only non-exclusive images addressed to newspaper use and, in general, copyright-free are accepted.
- Live photos are published when licensed by photographers whose copyright is quoted.
- Rockol is available to pay the right holder a fair fee should a published image’s author be unknown at the time of publishing.
Feedback
Please immediately report the presence of images possibly not compliant with the above cases so as to quickly verify an improper use: where confirmed, we would immediately proceed to their removal.