Lyrics

[Intro: Duffy] Nigga Type of shit we on, bitch niggas know they not on that Nigga (Reconboy) Bitch (Run that back, West) Yeah [Verse 1: Duffy] Fuck the tough talk, the uchies what impress me I got the drop, I'm finna rock out, Elvis Presley Too icy, all this water on me, grab the jet-ski It's Jet Li and Jackie Chan kickin', thank you, Mei Ling Clearly gettin' it, bitch, we winnin', they don't understand Cold demons here, the city hate to see an avalanche Another day of pourin' mud, I'm tryna blow some bands Mud walking all through Neiman Marcus, seen a 'fit and bled [Chorus: Duffy] Another opp up in my DM, I'm like where he at? The typе of shit we on, these niggas rеally ain't on that Niggas gay, they makin' California look bad Pop it to me like he stupid, then got booked after him Shit, nigga Another opp up in my DM, I'm like where he at? Nigga, bitch The type of shit we on, these niggas really not on that [Verse 2: Blue Pesos] Sneaky threats about the team, he got booked after .223s hit him in his chest, watch his soul shatter Wait, huh, who doin' what? That was bad plannin' This a suit that'll compliment your new casket She see these VVs bling blingin', now she fascinated Why you let them niggas hype you up? Now your head deflated I see uchies behind the door, I'ma Jackie Chan it They love that lil' dance I do, I'm just used to winnin' You's a freak, though, easy call, fundamentals 808s beatin' down his block, I'm playin' instrumentals Ten thousand for the feature or you can just forget it 2022, you still broke? How? It's so simple [Chorus: Duffy] Another opp up in my DM, I'm like where he at? The type of shit we on, these niggas really ain't on that Niggas gay, they makin' California look bad Pop it to me like he stupid, then got booked after him Shit, nigga Another opp up in my DM, I'm like where he at? Nigga, bitch The type of shit we on, these niggas really not on that [Verse 3: Stoneda5th] She believe in Jesus, but she callin' me her father Pull up in the Benz, pop him up in his Impala If we get shot, then only shottas on the roster When the brodie got put on, turned to a monster Talkin' bullets through his brain, no need for a doctor Shut the back door Nigga come in through the front and get his ass smoked Bring him to the deep end, we gon' snatch his soul Roll his brother in a 'Wood since he tryna troll Shittin' on the opps, it's never gettin' old Bounce out with a hoodie, it wasn't even cold Run my fade and put my Carti on [Verse 4: R3 Da Chilliman] Famous and rich, still on the block like I ain't worth nothin' The slap got a switch on it, I'm tryna hurt somethin' Bigger, smarter, so? Still get popped Chunky diamonds like I don't know grown men watch He don't got his own motion, he always need a play I'm big ballin', blew your stash at Neimans today Bands in every single pocket, I'm Mr. Chilli I'm who they want, so I got bitches in every city I'ma give him all these bullets like he asked for these Six thousand on the 'fit, it's a masterpiece Nigga only hate my guts 'cause his boo got hit He probably sip a lil' juice, but I abuse that shit [Chorus: Duffy] Another opp up in my DM, I'm like where he at? The type of shit we on, these niggas really ain't on that Niggas gay, they makin' California look bad Pop it to me like he stupid, then got booked after him Shit, nigga Another opp up in my DM, I'm like where he at? Nigga, bitch The type of shit we on, these niggas really not on that, nigga [Outro] (Reconboy) (Run that back, West)