(La música de Harry Fraud)
Oh, oh, oh
Young Jefe, holmes
They tell you the world is yours and then they make it hard to live
This money ain't accounted for, but bitch, I'm worth some M's
I never doubted her, I seen it right from the beginning
And she came over here because she really wanna win
She let me fuck her friend and now she wanna fuck again
And your thoughts must be broke if you don't think my bitch a ten
He thought life was a game until it hit him on his chin
Your wife don't be wearin' her ring when she be fuckin' 'round with him
30, 30, I miss you, yeah, I wish you would've answered that last call
OT Bam, I miss you, dawg, I still remember our last talk
Now that I do this shit for y'all, I'm just gon' let that bag talk
Pull up to Bank of America doin' a motherfuckin' cash walk, nigga
Fly high, fly high
They don't never trust they timing
Must be the reason all these niggas dying
Fly high, fly high
She into money, purses, and diamonds
That nigga say he fucked for free, he lying
Fly high
They gon' pretend they love you, crazy what that cash do
I'm in a fast coupe, gonna bust a fast move
I know some secrets 'bout you but I never asked you
I blew a bag too, why you in a bad mood?
Kept it one hundred when I really could've trashed you
Steak cost a hundred, lil' bitch, they call it wagyu
Let's not forget 'bout all these niggas stealing swag too
Just like my pictures, ho, please stay up off my 'Gram, fool
I'm still chillin' in them trenches with that 40 tucked
He get to trippin', I shoot like a Milwaukee Buck
Heard nigga bitchin', oh, she ain't pickin' up
I heard she ridin' with Young Jefe in that Bentley truck
Fly high, fly high
They don't never trust they timing
Must be the reason all these niggas dying
Fly high, fly high
She into money, purses, and diamonds
That nigga say he fucked for free, he lying
Fly high
