Lyrics

[Verse 1] I'm always mobbing with the same muthafuckers Same niggas I trusted Same little bucket, least I ain't gotta bus it Paint job cool but the hub a little busted And that thang old as fuck I think it came with a musket Names you discussing, the real niggas disgusted Bitter lil nigga you can catch me ear hustling Flame in the fussin, peel brains like they onions Hoes claim that they deep as the Hudson Then tell me something, bitch I thought so You can hold this dick but not no convo Reaching in my pocket got me thicker than a poncho Crack from my tonsils til I'm the head honcho How the fuck you finna be fly without the launch code Got a dream bigger than my ego span Niggas thought that I was crazier than CeeLo jam Posted up talking shit about some G4 plans A nigga couldn't pay the bill on his G4 plan I'm a high ass nigga with some high ass thoughts Eating high fat food with my high ass broad Blow an eighth with my niggas that my high ass brought And drive slow hoping I don't get my high ass caught So what's the dealy though, nappy fade chin like a billy goat Hungry and I'm faded my niggas asking a dinner quote You know the little bucket like a beamer when I'm in it though I'm riding dirty, tags been expired for a minute though Fuck it with my finger out the window looking ratchet With a couple of the homies that I tend to act an ass with Usually I'm not the type of nigga that behaving Like I'm missing home training but tonight I'm looking basic Whores in contortion the way I be switching faces It's amazing how the liquor turn a angel into Satan Now we making moves, just to make do seems like the only time we pray to Jesus, when the bills due [Hook] Back again, weed spilling on my lap again Drinking Kool-Aid from tap again Back again, Feds looking at my cap again Black again Back again, weed spilling on my lap again Drinking Kool-Aid from tap again Back again, Feds looking at my cap again Black again [Verse 2] Just a funky little nigga puffing reefer Smoke inside your hoodie, had you looking like the reaper Kicking it like FIFA to a Mona Lisa You like to boogie to the rhythm of your own speakers Thrown heater with a low Caesar How you doing? It's nice to meet ya My cousin coming home with more stripes than four zebras I have a blunt rolled on top of some new sneakers A bottle of some liquor just so you can wet your beak up That's all I can afford though We bigger now, wish I has the dough to get you Like Money Mitch when you getting out Got 'em now, rather we have 'em When ya ends low, you found out that family has you When the wind blow, you find out the family gathers And when ya wins low, you find out that family matters But for real,
 Uncle V miss you, we been goin fishing Drinking, trying to help him fill the void but he miss his baby boy [Hook]