(Turn this fuckin' mic on)
Had to move up out of Hollywood, get a new spot
Niggas treat you on how many followers you got
My problem is, uh, I'll never stop
Cookin' good beats in that fuckin' gumbo pot (Come on)
New Orleans, like I play for the Saints
I'm rollin' up in the [?], the old school with the paint
Ooh wee like it's tailor made, and it fit, mama
I'm rollin up the money, middle name fuckin' commas
Tokyo, Curren$y—yeah, that's Yen, brother
Not one, okay, I need ten, brother
She want a photo, eatin' at Coco's
Hype Domo, no promo, bookin' Soho
Schemin in this Polo, double-R-L
Cream like Carvel, OG Kush new car smell
Keep the E in it, Chevy's on switches
Say we smokin' weed in it, don't post me in your pictures
You could keep a secret, we could always
Rule number one, don't talk about me
This my afternoon car, I switched this up before dark
I rode this one to the park, my '58 didn't start
So I can't wait til tomorrow, have the homeboy order parts
This one crazier than before, dog, what the fuck they gon' do?
Plus we cookin' up another one, drop 'fore summer be through
This murder one in the booth, I swerve on purpose to [?]
I'm on porch with the crew, then law enforcement to swoop
Though they came up with no proof, had to pull off lookin' stu'
Man, that's enough for me, fool
Back in my rag '62, finna take it to home base
I'm finna smash me a plate, roll up some joints of that Grate'
Draw us up another play, how to get in and get away
We did that shit broad day, specialist flew in private plane
He could up a safe, Ocean's Eleven paved the way
This is Ocean's Twenty Eight, I wore that leather tracksuit to the ball
Made Cinderella faint, swear she was ready to risk it all
I didn't even want the broad, she tried to stunt on my dog
And she fronted on the homie, I guess I fucked her for y'all
