Lyrics

[Intro: SaySoTheMac] (EBlessedMe) Ayy (Jit cooked this one) [Chorus: SaySoTheMac] Chopstick came with whole hun and a green dot Free the gang, what you need on the green dot? Crossbow, finna knock the apple out his treetop Beatboxin' with this chop, nigga do the bebob We the bustdown bandits and y'all niggas wear G-Shock We gon' scorch a nigga with pitchforks, he think he hot [Verse 1: SaySoTheMac] He an imposter, why he tryna be something he not? These is SB dunks, lil' nigga, not no Reeboks Cold demon in this dream, leave a nigga where the sheep at Bust her down to Drakeo, we ain't listenin' to Keef Sweat He next, hand me the sticks, it ain't no reset I ain't playin' with these niggas, told my teacher, "Fuck recess" And this shit that I'm toting'll probably rip through three vests I'm the best when it come to fuckin' up retests I'd rather walk through Hell 'fore a nigga ever see jail I'm a hot nigga, walk in, hoes gettin' a heat spell 304 payin' me just to keep my interest Glocks extended, all facts, that's how I'm livin' [Chorus: SaySoTheMac & Blue Pesos] Chopstick came with whole hun and a green dot Free the gang, what you need on the green dot? Crossbow, finna knock the apple out his treetop Beatboxin' with this chop, nigga do the bebob (Shit, nigga) We the bustdown bandits and y'all niggas wear G-Shock (For real, long live the mob) We gon' scorch a nigga with pitchforks, he think he hot [Verse 2: Blue Pesos & Duffy] Free Ras, what you need up on your green dot? Chop came with a hundred shots and a green dot Sixty seconds, then I'm gettin' ghost, I need five thousand I've been goin' through it on the low, don't wanna talk about it Any nigga speakin' on the bros, put some chalk around him I'm in Hell's Kitchen with a blower, call me Gordon Ramsay Starin' at my watch and my chains, I never thought I'd make it I was tryna get it out the streets, how I become famous? Bustdown bandits, two watches, two Glocks A hundred thousand-dollar whips up on the block, we got it hot Designer guns, long stockings, we don't really do the stocks Too many pops on my knots, keep a mop or one up top (Shit, shit) [Verse 3: Duffy] I'm finna poke the window up, knock knock Big bag, I'm up guap, duck and dodgin' punk rock, shit Your bitch say she waitin' on OTM to drop Hollow tips just left a nigga body on the blacktop We the slums, what you need up on your green dot? Bounce out, walk him down, I ain't send no cheap shots Laser beam, last thing he seen was a green dot Ayy, I'm innocent, you see me smilin' in my mugshot I like stomp-down hoes, not no fake 304 I get dough, yeah, we know, I'm in the field to get some more I see envy in they faces 'cause we got it Off The Mussle Had to get up in my bag, you broke? Get up and hustle, shit