Verse 1:
Yeah, I need a lot not a little
Can't be the man in the middle
Flippin' the double, the triple, we major like keys on a fiddle
It wasn't coincidental I knew it would happen this way
This shit was carved with a chisel
I mean I can tell that the Cuban is solid
But I know that ego is brittle
You got your head in the closet, I'm keeping my head on the swivel
Gotta replace the safe
I need a vault 'cause I make more than your fiscal
Why should I worry about niggas? They don't even pay my dental
'Long as they got eight figures, where do I sign my initials?
I ain't no killer my nigga but with this kind of paper ain't nobody catchin' me slippin'
This year I'm coppin' you a pistol
I ain't gotta pay no shooter 'cause my bro is my hitter
They should reconsider
They still broke and bitter
I got rich and bigger
Big pimpin' like Jigga
Gucci still my dealer
My shit got no fillers
Bitch get out your ayy
Bitch get ayy
Bitch get out your feelings
