Ranked

You're ass
You're dead meat
I'm gonna crush your fucking eyeballs
You're ass
Aye mike, pass me the burner, I'm finna let this bitch off
You know what happen every single time we fucking slide

Unc' just caught him a body he ranked, he can't sleep no more
They tried locking me up in a cage, but I had beat the court
Hit his car with that C4
My gun its gon' beat yours
Pierce him with that 34
Got a mop, it don't clean floors

Boy you don't get no racks, you better go do ya chores
When I pull up on yo block, you best believe it's in that Porsche
Yeah I hit yo bitch, best believe I did not kiss that whore
Catch em', hop out, blitz his ass, pussy boy better check the score
I just go thumb through them racks, every time I get bored
Mikey, pass the strap, we boutta kick his front door

Smoking so much Bumfeet pack, I think my lungs sore
I fuck up on yo bitch, go take her back, cause I don't want yours
Walk up in the trap, we got more straps than the gun store
He had all the cash, we robbed his ass, made him become poor
Ya mans ain't have his blick, when we slide, that's a sad case
If I ain't make 10 or over 5, then that's a bad day
Me and 7errified finna slide, with them big K's
Hop up out the whip, with them 9s and them big Drac's
Stay yo ass inside, go and hide, fo' you get faced
You be telling lies, 'bout them pints, you don't sip drank

I buy so much Tide, bitch I'm tired of the blood stains
Yo bitch is a genius, way she got so much brain
Yeah that Drac' gon' hit em' from some range
Chop shoot through his frames
Hit the mall with Curry, left with Dame, bitch I go insane
Yeah I heard yo song, but it's lame, I don't feel yo pain
He was talking shit, he get blitzed
Yeah this Glock gon' lift his dumbass up, like a fucking crane

Walking in the room, pockets filled up, I'm a walking bank
Real dog shit, my pockets big now
You tryna talk shit, I pull the blick out
Empty the clip out
Right in yo bitch house
I take the guns and the funds then I dip out