Lyrics

Yeah

Glock 19, MAC-11

FN, five-seven

AR-15 send a fuck-nigga to Heaven

I get geeked up, bitch, I don't do Percocets

I love money and sex

Shawty gon' pull up, told her, "Bring that neck"

I fucked her off the G6, so I ain't break no sweat

He think he invincible 'cause he got a bulletproof vest

Fuck it, shoot his head

I mix the Wock' with the red

And the stick don't fit in the bag, gotta tote that Glock instead

I gotta tote that glizzy, whoa

I gotta take my fire everywhere I go

Shoot that bitch out, I turn it to a visual

30 clip on me, yeah, it's digital

I'ma shoot that lil' bitch 'til it's empty

I got hella hoes like I'm pimpin'

These lil' niggas stay rolled like the zip

I smoke out the bag, I pour up the pint, it's four K just for me to sip

I went in all Balenci' for my flight, it's ten K just for me to drip

I'm with your bitch, she goin' convertible, she droppin' the top, then I dip

I pull out her mouth, then I licked on her nipples

Ha-ha

Yeah

I got-, I got my boy, my boy

Top Floor Boss in this motherfucker, ayy, Lone

...

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