(Thank you, June)
Yeah
Come on, yeah
Pop another pill, I'm alive, I'm awake
Mixin' up syrup, got it splashin' in the Wraith
Feelin' like a rocket, I might blast off today
I can't slow it down 'cause I'm stuck in a race, yeah
Pop them pills, yeah, pour up a glass, yeah
Pour up some drank, yeah, blow that gas, yeah
We don't sleep, naw, we don't crash, naw
Whole club movin', got 'em goin' fast (Yeah)
It ain't a bag if the shit don't never last, yeah
Thousand 'bows in a Glad bag, stuff the trash can
Whole kit on first aid, bitch, I'm the band man
Make the chopper do a handstand when we blam fam
It was bust Rollies, now it's Vacherons
I ain't cracked a seal in two weeks, they took the doctor down
Brick Squad with the fetty, got the flakka brown
Got a lot of thous in my pocket, make me hop around
Niggas always talking past tense, they some has-beens
Bag drop around 5 a.m., tell 'em back in
We can start cleaning up the spot, this the last man
Dumb nigga had a hot head 'til he got fanned
'Member it was down the way, ninety days locked in
Burn the rock sands, got 'bows and we got tan
Remember I would hustle, all I wanted was to get a ten
Nowadays, when I blow a hundred bands, it feel like ten
I hold the paper to my heart because we feel like friends
Got a Cullinan truck and got a Lam', but I still like Benz
I've been woke for thirty hours, countin' a mil' in tens
A mastermind, always got a plan, bitch, I'm really him
Bought a mansion for my babies, business for my wife
Made my side bitch a boss, I be really livin' life, huh
Sittin' in the feds, quarter million off of white
I like the Richard when it's plain, but it's litter when it's ice, huh
This rap shit goin', but the trap still bunkin'
Niggas actin' in they music and be cappin' when they talkin'
Bailed my nephew out, he caught a hat in Minnetonka
Cook a chicken like hibachi, send a pack to Benihana
I been thuggin' with G.T. since we was shorties
The only niggas ever gave me game was Chello, Crazy, Tim, and Corey
Was at the China Club, Mink, and Morey's
Got thirties and the forties, make the stains from the afternoon to morning (Ayy, yeah)
Brand new off the lot, leave the sticker, show the price
Boy, we traphouse legends, bro Hakeem with them pints
Serve the cut to the lames, pour the clean in a Sprite
I don't even like to call this shit rap, this my life
Really, we way bigger, you know niggas just be talkin'
I got money tall as people damn near fillin' out my closet
Nowadays, I just thumb through it chillin' at the office
If you ever go against it, they'll be pickin' out your coffin
A hundred thousand all blues, man, my pockets C walkin'
Pop a half a genie, I can feel the bean talkin'
We ride bulletproof V's, in a Maybach crawlin'
Me and Ice stay ballin', that's my day-one partner
(Thank you, June)
