Look Why do niggas lie about their money, wait what's up with that Remember I was broke, that shit was funny Now I got the racks Brody he throw bullets at the tummy Never at the back Wipe a nigga nose if it's runny Put 'em in a Ffff (Wait, wait, wait) Look Why do niggas lie about their money, wait what's up with that Remember I was broke, that shit was funny Now I got the racks Brody he throw bullets at that tummy Never at the back Wipe a nigga nose if it's runny Put 'em in a pack I can't fuck with lame niggas, huh Brody hit my phone, say he a grave digger, huh Please don't ask bro name, no I don't name niggas, huh Please don't play with gang, my bro got aim nigga Huh, my bro got aim nigga Big as forty, this shit might hit ya Bitch, imma throw you a strike, I'm a pitcher Blood in my gun, the drink in my liver She want the dick, I come to deliver I need the wood, don't pass me a swisher My money good, my pack from Denver All of my A-shit cold, December She wanna ride the pole, a stripper Uh-uh-uh-uh-uh-uh Put your cups up Me, I'm off that casa Brody leanin' off that dumb dumb If he talkin' hada, have him greetin' with them dumb dumbs Shoutout to El Chapo, that's my brother He the dumb one It's the fucking Bandman, you heard?