Lyrics

Yeah yeah yeah

I don't know what they want, I don't know

In the cold with my Gs, in the cold

We supplying you the ting, in the snow

I think I know what they want, I think I know

I can smoke for your whole fucking ends

On the low, got the woah in the Benz

Only bros, I got no fucking friends

Cos I don't trust 'em, no fucking chance

Buss a move, when I'm juice oh my

In a coupe, getting whoop, from your wife

She was yours, but she loose, now she mine

From the roots to the roof, all my Gs are together

Take the scale out the cupboard, hit the block then I flood it

New watch looking flooded, paigons watching all gutted

Look at all this white on my clothes,

I ain't got time for them hoes

Looking like it snowed in the kitche

I spent all night by the stove

Heard these niggas wanna run up on me,

You niggas better not roll with nanks

Broke rappers talking 'bout yay,

I really got Rolls Royce stamps

Niggas act hard all on the net

When that gun blast you better run fast

Got my first check and like Spike Lee,

I did the right thing I gave my mum half

I can smoke for your whole fucking ends

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