1'5 (what it do nigga?) They say them young niggas draped up in Balenci, huh Shout out to my shotta (yeah) You know how we roll 'em (real 1'5 shit) Shoutout to my roster Draped in Balenci, shouts out to my partner Shoutout to my shotta, shoutout to my roster Whip up that dope like you cookin' up pasta On eighty keep poppin', these gold, it's not copper Pluggin' the ship whole, no I'm not a shopper Givin' out xannies like I am a doctor Ain't with all that shit, I'm just grabbin' the popper You play with bread, I might aim at your father Pull up to the hood and I'm strapped with that chopper I'm draped in designer, I got snakes on my collar This for lil woadie, he drunk out the shower Finna cook up the dope, I'll be done in an hour My trap it got traffic, it's bumper to bumper I be swingin' that dope, they say I got the hook up How you more muscle, no push up or pull up Nobody move because this is a stick up I been told you niggas I'm draped in Balenci I thirtied my semi 'cause I'm havin' plenty I'm pourin the shit up that fuck up my kidneys I'm stuffin' these backwoods with nothin' but that cookie Ain't with all that shit, I'ma aim at your auntie Don't play 'bout my money 'cause that shit ain't funny Free that boy Meek, they tryna give him a twenty Don't run up on me, I'ma hit you with twenty Speaking of twenty, boy I got that shit in my bridges Got the racks in my skinnies, I walk like a penguin All the cases got beat, we done talked to the mister If we ever had smoke, we didn't talk, we just blistered All these bitches get passed, we don't cuff, we just switch 'em I sit back and keep pimpin', I just watch and I listen Really plugged in the street, not no man in the middle One call to the country, they comin' to get 'em One call to the country, they came and they got him He play with that money, my young nigga shot him These niggas some bitches, don't know none' about 'em They fold and they switchin', I keep 'em from 'round me I play dirty, hit his ass with the revolver Shoot one in his head, I leave blood on the carpet I came up off 'caine, I didn't go to Harvard Trap beat up the chain, it beat like Tha Carter Draped in Balenci, we don't wear no tennis I fucked the lil bitch and I took her to Benis Remember back when I was scrapin' up nickels and pennies Just so I could get me some winnings Now I push up in the foreign, smokin' on cookie You know I got racks in my skinnies Chasin' that bag, give a fuck 'bout no image Wet this shit up, give a fuck 'bout no witness Pull up to the spot, gotta call 'fore you enter If you ain't with the shit, you get put in a blender Hundred deep in the Sprinter, the sticks in the rental Get on the road, count the backend and we split up Eat this shit up like this shit was some dinner He brought the pack back to Candler so I hit him Ain't goin' back and forth with them niggas, ain't with 'em I call up my hitters, they comin' to get you