(Intro – Young Thug)
Turn up with Lil Yachty
Thugger, Thugger, baby
Trouble Man, aka T.I.P., yeah
Bankroll Mafia, YSL, Lil Duke, slat
R.I.P. to Troupe
(Verse 1 – Young Thug)
You better run, we gon come for you
My I.V. is red like thermometers
I f**k on that bi**h like a porn star
Hit me up when I’m on tour
I’ma unlock the card if you want it
We gon f**k on that day that you bought it
These lil ni**as not eating, they boney
Her best friend got her going and going
(Chorus – Young Thug)
I’m in a foreign car, she in another car
I pull up to the job, I walk in her job
And cum in her jaw like shotta
Se pasa en mi casa
Ain’t looking over, I’m leaning over
Your bi**h want it, she fiening, homie
I got stripes like a zebra, homie
I’m laughing like a hyena, homie
(Verse 2 – T.I.)
I don’t know where you get your facts at, ni**a
But you come in half-assed, I’ma max that ni**a
Catch is ass in my hood, I’ma tax that ni**a
If he run, give you ten if you catch that ni**a
You know you don’t really want my crew to attack, ni**a
I’ll fire ya ass up, you can ask that ni**a
Nah, I bet you’d rather that ni**a
Beefing all on Instagram and Snapchat with him
Just yesterday I was a young crack dealer
When the trap was slow I put it on the fast track, ni**a
And if an 8 take a shot, pass that ni**a
Set the world on fire, where your match at, ni**a?
A coup in Hustle Gang did thirty something million
Another seven off of television, put that with it
Now can you match that, ni**a?
And we ain’t even talking bout my rap track, ni**a
I’m paid, fresh out the bank
I make that lil money look less than you think
Yeah you think you got more, ain’t as much as you think
When you see than I am everything that you ain’t
Like a stand-up guy and a real ni**a
S**ka ass ni**a, don’t deal with him
I had a bunch of solid ni**as standing with me in the trap
Eighteen years later and I’m still with em
(Repeat Chorus)
(Verse 3 – Shad da God)
I love all my ni**as, I ride for my homies
They keep it one hunnid, can’t lie to my homies
Eating no turkey now, no b-bologna
Still gaining weight and we bout to go touring
We really rich ni**as, we hop in the foreign
Ni**a you play and get shot by the morning
Blat-blat-blat-blat-blat-blat-blat
Spray a whole hundred shots with no warning
Bales and them scales, before rap I was rich
Still hit them blocks, all up in the dead end
This a cold world, I’ve lost so many friends
So many fakes, I don’t want no more friends
Stack all this money and count all the yams
Used to move weight and ain’t talking bout no gem
Rubber band racks by the ten now
Used to be broke, went from bucket to Benz
(Repeat Chorus)
(Verse 4 – Lil Yachty)
Spent the weight on my chain
Don’t you diss, speak on my name
I’m the same ni**a, ain’t sh*t changed
Never got far with the pu*** ni**a thing
No we are not the same, stay in your lane
These ni**as leasing their rings, it ain’t what you think
This ni**as acting like they’re so hard
Make a pu*** ni**a park my car
All these pu*** ni**as try to sound like me
Sh*t, they won’t get too far
Lil Boat
(Verse 5 – MPA Duke)
Ooh, mil, hundo
Yellow, purp, that drank though
Pull up on the set with a bi**h so bad
Every ni**a want her back though
My name known in the hood
Like a mothaf**king stop on a back door
I don’t even need no Bankroll
Just get wet for the zeros
Aww yeah, yeah, yeah
Bankroll my Mafia
I put on that Glock like Gaddafi, yeah
I ride round, I’m juuging at 9 a.m., god!
Bankroll my Mafia
Bankroll my Mafia
(Repeat Chorus)
