Double Cup (feat. Christ Dillinger)

Look, he's holdin' my cup
Look like the mister in time I rolled up
Dippin' dippin' on the scene
And again the paint machine

Hella yellow bone boppers on my team
It's Lope fuckin' Dope, I'm bout to go up off the top
It's Lope fuckin' Dope, I got the dope in my pocket
Dope in the trunk, pack that heat when I'm walkin

Real 96 gang shit
I smoke the Backwoods, Dutchies, Swishas, whatever
R.I.P. my boy, BGD served me the pressure
Hit your bitch on the first night I met her

I'm switchin' them digits, yeah, as soon as I left her
Loccing in the parking lot, I'm with Dillinger
She spilled that wok then I'm sellin' her
I got a bag of gas, it's on the regular

I smoke a pound of dope on the regular
I remember I used to smoke the eighths of the regular
Fuck that shit, we got them flavors here
I got the bag of cake and I'll roll it at the bank

Then I skate, I'll roll off on your bae today
I'll post up in Texas, shout out to L.A
I flew out one day just to get away from the bullshit
Shout out your bitch, I bet she called for the pool stick

Your bitch want that new D
I got the off-white, that Louis, that Gucci, that Subi
You newbie, you know that we pour up the mucus
But I thought that you knew this

Got a bag full of P's and your P's servin' that bullshit
Your P's servin' that B, they got them bean's, fuck you mean
I got your bitch with me, she want that dick, what you mean
She want the sushi, that .5s, of that Lucy

You lookin' like Lil' Rat, boy, I'll take that bag, bust your kneecap
Fuck that, baseball blunt full of that Thrax
She gon' get that next verse, LDC since day one
I'm puttin' in work, that soda in my double cup

I pour that shit up, yeah, we don't want what's in your cup

I get so high, like I got wings
If I pull that bitch out then that bitch gonna sing
Come through with the beam, it's gonna sting

I still got all my cash, I'mma look like Yao Ming
I wonder what my mama done seen
Caught me at 19, but I've been doin' lean
Mixin' the pro-meth with codeine

I never held up a cup for a scene
The lean the percs the drank
Run up a check and I'm hittin' the bank
Run up on us and we leavin' you stank

Smokin' on gas, I might smoke the whole tank
I spent 300 on a line of Tris, man, fuck it, I'm a drug addict
We outside the palace, we matchin' our Pateks
I'm high as an attic, I'm high and an addict

I'm a light-house, step up real lean, not dark stout
This FN might hit through the fence
She never fucked in the Benz
This cup in my hand my best friend

Keepin' it real, I don't gotta pretend
Sippin' on green, I'm not sippin' on red
Christ he doesn't talk to the feds
Back up a hundred bands, and I'm where at again