(Hydro)
441 Daisy Lane shit
Vez, what up, though?
Know what the fuck goin' on
Drank God
(Helluva made this beat, baby)
Let's get it, phew
Real paper, nigga
Big dog shit
Fuck niggas talkin' 'bout?
Yeah
This ain't no rapper shit, nigga, this real life
GI F-color solitaires, I rock real ice
Huh, twenty million in, but it's still light
Sloppy road, like we sellin' dog, it's gon' seal pints
I don't need no record label or big homie, bitch, I'm showboat on the Six
Ain't never lackin', we got bro-bro with them sticks
Huh, boogers in my bezel, bust a Rollie, half a brick
Stuff my pockets with some shit, we cash it all, ain't gotta pick, nigga
Told the plug to get it back in blood, bitch, we rich, nigga
Bought more choppers, extra rag for cuz 'cause we wrench niggas
Was fuckin' with lil' bruh, just beat a dub
Partner, Vezzo, and three guns
Took them bitches right on the run, but had the Bent' tinted
Really from that way, bitch, we play for keeps
Sneakers on my Jeep, Forgiats for all my feet
Send 'bows to all the trenches, pour up pop so I could sleep
Vacheron cost half a midget, fuck with us, you tryna eat
Got this Daisy pack from Cali', I don't be coppin' down the street
You know I came a long way from gettin' two-fifty a G
But see, I'm past that, I ain't never seen no real money, stop playin'
See, all I need is my scale and some gas for the van
Daisy Lane, when shit get slow, do forty grams in a day
This ain't no rap shit, this for all my niggas shootin' down the way
Yeah, where I'm from, this shit get ugly, we get money, niggas'll paint you
Know I'm fifty-states shorty, doin' all the shit they can't do
Fifty-states shorty, really forty-eight, my paper straight
Put a pussy-ass nigga on First 48
Got three-fives in small towns, plus I'm sellin' weight
And every time we bust a brick down, we celebrate
I'm lookin for a new spot when the weather break, what your people pay?
Know it should be all rap, but I'm still thinkin' weight
Plug on the flake, but I ain't even gon' touch it
I know they rap fast, but I still treat 'em like custard
No, this ain't no rap shit, get with me
Drop the price, I'm in your city
Overnight, a whole fifty
Night shift get wicked
We gon' roll 'til it's finished
Take a whole one, make three
Hundred pack every week
I got points on the P's
This ain't no rap shit, nigga, watch how you run up on me
Know I love that hand in hand, won't even let 'em sell it for me
Twenty thousand in the air, nigga, what time that mail running?
Daisy Lane Records, all we know is sell somethin', nigga
