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Lyrics

[Intro: CEO Trayle] (Flexin') Ayy, C4 (SK808, nigga) (Ooh, DJ Swerve) [Verse: CEO Trayle & Kai Ca$h] Ayy, C4C4 gravedigger Pop a Perky painkiller Ask the bitch if age differ Servin' all the J's, nigga Carti' in my chain pendant Thinkin' 'bout makin' my chain bigger Niggas can't find this wave without no GPS, no way C4C4, CYN, that's TNT, okay? A bunch of shooters with me like Golden State, uh, uh If Kai ain't got no plate, I won't eat 'til he ate A high-speed in a straight, wake up every morning tryna get this cake I turned twenty-three (Damn) Shit is stressin' Payin' them bills, gotta boost my ethic I can't chill, that won't cut it Niggas buggin' tryna come for me I done had some of the baddest bitches tryna come for me Big old MAC-11 if niggas try to come for me Fuck with me Big old pipe, she seen it, now she tryna run from me Luxury I'm somewhere respected, I move comfortably But if I do find trouble 40 Glock bust your bubble I asked that bitch how much and fucked, then paid her for her trouble Pockets on me, thigh pads lookin' like C4 worked a double We can catch the body, but he's not worth the trouble He would give away all our plays whenever we called the huddle Million up in them tunnels, makin' sure shit don't crumble I can't let no nigga invade my space if he ain't my brother I want commas and O's and O's and O's, the shit gon' stutter Money gon' get here fast, I'm close to mine, we look like lovers Now I gotta get in my bag, upgrade, now I gotta switch my class Zero, zero, zero, comma, zero, zero, zero, comma Zero, zero, zero, comma, ayy Back door for sure, uh, trap at the store Got Off-White 'round her throat with a Louis Vuitton tote Me and my dawgs gon' eat, we feast at Buddakan, woah Ride in my Jeep Sahara, ain't no Rubicon, no (Yeah) I can't pedal backwards, give me my credit like extra classes Niggas hold they nuts, but they gon' see me after