On i94

Lyrics

[Intro] Ooh, shit, that's a Danny G beat Uh-huh, uh, uh-huh (Brrt, brrt), ayy, uh, yeah (Whew, whew, whew, whew) [Verse] I'm on '94, in a '55, doing double that Catch the opps Moncler and pop him like some bubble wrap If I hand it off to gang, I know he won't fumble that What he tossing in the club, I know I can double that Nah, I can't triple that, tah, uh I should start detention, all my bitches bad Louis V duffel like a toilet, got some shit in that I ain't got no mo'fucking balance, bitch, I trip in Saks I'll tell a bitch it's that Anytime I look into a mirror, bitch, I see the shit Counting blues while your bitch blew me, I must be a Crip Glocky tuck in on my Mike Amiri's, know you see the blick Funny if that bitch ain't eating dick, I tell her, "Eat a dick" He ain't your mans, he on split poles Back-to-back rounds with this bitch left my dick swole Ain't no zippies 'round, ganger smoking off the big 'bow Looking like a hobo in these thousand-dollar ripped clothes Only hit the coldest bitches I don't even gotta pop my shit, the bitches know who winning Hitman'll clean the scene up, you won't know who did it ADD, we can't sit still, we in motion with it Yeah, gotta know the blick next to me Ganger rich, BabyTron counting shit next to me You ain't SBDSM, you can't sit next to me I ain't hit your bitch, boy, I got big neck, dummy Speaking out his neck, .223's left his chest open Closet like a ocean, I step in and get to breaststroking He ain't really tough, he just be acting like he Seth Rollins Shooter think he Virgil, catch a opp and put a X on it Closet full of letters like I'm tryna learn the alphabet Funny how the Fendi's match the grade I got in calculus Unky pouring potions in the lab, he like a alchemist Set the bullies him, all my dawgs be on some alpha shit .40 on me, I could make the honor roll When these niggas take the shift, the only time they got a rose He can make a fucking milli', long as unky got a stove All these tees, all these cannons, looking like I'm 'bout to pose Huh, brodie move a Xan, he don't know Jake Did the dash in the newest Bronco, feel like O.J Bitch sent a paragraph, I replied with, "Okay" Getting fast money, couldn't do this shit the slow way Huh, I like bitches who like bitches Waving sticks, the wind making wishes with these bitches Need to go to church 'cause I be sinning in my Christian's Guarantee that any shot you missing, I can swish it All I hit is cold shit Should I use my SkyMile or should I road trip? Should I drop another chain or do the froze wrist? In Miami, hitting cold bitches, getting homesick, huh Gang came Crocs, had to do the Foam Runners We ain't stripping through this bitch, but all my babies pole clutchers I'm a jackrabbit, shit talking, pretty ho fucker Never had a job interview, had one on No Jumper Huh, this the shitty season They like, "Stan, when you finna drop?" I know the city need it Boy, don't up that ten-piece nugget, I can fifty-piece it Bitches phony, through the tinted buffies, I can really see it Thinking, why the fuck I got knuckles? I am not a fighter Gucci sweater on my body, this a lion, not a tiger 201 Benz scorching, I could slide and start a fire Say it's up with gang and them, I bet you I can take it higher [Outro] Bitch, ShittyBoyz, Dog Shit Militia, that's on every song, whew, yeah