Got my brother by my side Smoke and Demo finna slide Nah, nah, we don't do no murder, murder But we make it look like suicide Straight from the back of a casket, need a mask with it Asking nobody questions just get to blasting Math man, double digit bodies for subtracting Draw lines in spines, devoid of attraction Fashion, obsessed with the glitz and the glamor But don't get it wrong, we turn bodies to batter Forget about you and put you to the side Got him thinking thoughts of suicide, that's wack Tell him double back if he's mad, and his bitch is sad That he got no bag in the back Shoot him in the back, hit him with the mac Put him in the stack for a stack and a couple racks I don't need the cash but I guess you really thought I would I do this shit for fun, I don't need the funds I just need the fun, dumb stuff that come with the guns The youngest of dons, we making him think they done We makin him think they done And you better off ****in it up and telling me before you lacin up and hit the run He got nowhere to hide, he better fork over funds Hit his soul with the fire, we makin him think they done It's that east side beast, he never fold on the mic If you feast on the peace, we capping them in the night Don't release on the beast, he never losing a fight And the fleece you will see, the seconds before you die And I don't wanna cause any panic The money for damages right on my Patek You better watch out cause I might just go manic This shit is not fake like some bitches with plastic uh Bitch looking heavy, they fill her with plastic She gonna die soon, someone get her a casket I feel like Nagini, I been spitting acid Or maybe Houdini, magic, Imma pass it Got stars on my jacket, I feel like America Generations gonna fight and inherit a Million percent of the net worth you got That bitch from Google's daughter is a mother****ing thot Been a problem since ESOL Since the seventh grade, I don't know but he knows I'm a cheat code, cause when I grow, he grow Feel like Babe Ruth, I'm like everybody's hero Like Robert DeNiro, or Childish Gambino The chances of you getting bitches is zero My life is a movie and you're just the b-roll Imma slide for my bro if I need to Slicing them up in a couple increments, uh I got some money to cop some Ritalin, uh And I'll pop one, pop two cause it's imminent Turn them to dust and put him in the cinnamon, uh And I'll sprinkle them over my blunts, yuh And this strain got a name and it's only opp runtz And I don't gotta solve it with guns, yuh Put a blade in your rib, in the ground, all for months And I'm holding the baby AK like a stroller Made to the top not talkin Pensacola Spike them with coke and call me Coca-Cola Hack them with my machete from Angola And I just got a text that she missed me, yuh And I rather go up in a fire than she kiss me I call her a cat ain't no fishin me You got my addy but swear that you missin me, ah