Songtext
Fuck he say?
Fuck that nigga say?
Ay, ay
Ay, ay, ay, ay
Ay, ay, ay, ay
Ay, ay, ay
Ay, ay, ay
Ay, ay
Gang, gang, gang
Ay, ay, ay
Ay, ay, ay
Ay, ay
Ay, ay
Ay, ridin' wit' my choppa, ay, ay
I'ma beat him like his father, ay, ay
Now it's blood on my Giuseppes, ay, ay
I don't like no fuckin' Pradas, ay, ay
Put a knife up on my TEC, ay
Lil FaceTime, lil Skype up on my tech, ay, ay
And it all happened right up on my set, ay
S-O-S look like I'm from iTech, ay
She gave me top right before I jet, ay, ay
I need a yacht right before my jet, ay
I smoke some dope right before I jet, ay, ay
Mad, blast his ass then forget, ay, ay
Glo Gang, them my jits, ay
Octane right here, ay
I'm not saying what I did, ay
Look at my watch, Johnny God damn, ay, ay
We are smokin' out
Catch him in an open field, that's an open fall
Bitch, I will never fail or turn my fail to fall
I promise I'm not seein' y'all or hearin' y'all, ay
I gave my carats frost, ay
Flexin' like Dave the Barbarian, ay
This what I'm wearin', y'all, ay
My chain win chains by experience y'all, ay
Smoking Swishers, ay
Countin' money gettin' blisters, ay, ay
Handle your man, we will fix you, ay, ay
All red right now, I'm no Clifford, ay
'Cause I'm a dog when it comes to fuckin' bitches, ay
Coolin' with my fans and taking pictures, ay
And I got my pistol for them niggas, ay
I'ma pistol fuck them niggas, ay, ay
What you see? Pistols poppin', nigga, ay
Your cars on E, fill 'em up, lil nigga, ay
Your squad on D, get 'em up, lil nigga, ay, ay
I got my feelings tucked, lil nigga, ay, ay
Right where my pistol tucked, lil nigga
