(You'll fly too if you link up with Frenchie)

(Who dat, Trell?)

Uh, ayy, why the business sell?

Why the business sell?

Got a two-hundred boxes of purple, another hunnid coming

Got a hundred boxes of green goin' to the country

Told five come get the truck, and ya'll don't owe me nothing

Don't let these niggas kill you 'bout they dirty money

Don't let these niggas kill you 'bout no fucking chains

These people, they do anything for the fame

These people, they put anything on my name

But it's okay, yeah, it's okay

'Cause I am a motherfuckin' bottom boy survivor

And this is that real shit, that raw shit, they ride to

And l am the chosen one, the only one they bankin' on

And this is that real shit

that raw shit, they waiting on (on)

And what if your glass don't want you?

Uh, uh, uh, they waiting on

Uh, uh, uh, uh, uh

And what if your glass don't want you?

They waiting on, they waiting on, they waiting on

Damn, Flip Dog, I miss you, nigga time flies

I gotta keep myself busy to keep it off my mind

I got a temper like my daddy, you could say it's true

But you know that I got that Godfather shit from you

Run the streets like the mafia, go home and eat Tilapia

or baked chicken with the cream sauce

This ten mil'll cut your dreams short, uh

Riding with my youngin'

he got somethin' that will lift your stomach

If I sing it, or I sung it, best believe I done it

If your trap ain't jumpin', you should let us run it

A old nigga up, get tied up if he get in the way

I was born a belt boy, the mafia run the game

And I am a motherfuckin' bottom boy survivor

And this is that real shit, that raw shit, they ride to

And l am the chosen one, the only one they bankin' on

And this is that real shit

that raw shit, they waiting on (on)

And what if your glass don't want you?

Uh, uh, uh, they waiting on

Uh, uh, uh, they waiting on

And what if your glass don't want you?

Uh, uh, uh, come on, come on, come on (look)

Tryna follow me home, I'm in the rearview

Feds have follow me 'round deep cover shit

fuck that other shit

Made a hundred this year, now, you can call my bluff

Crazy as it sounds, I'll break it down

Made a fifty on the road, doing shows, selling clothes

Made a five in the spot selling exotic bowls

Made a dub middle manning Kanye for the low

Now add a dub to that number that I told you before

They in the club throwing ones, but I can't get wit' it

I'm in the office plannin', talking, I'm going for the billy

'Cause screaming out belt

snatch the streets by they britches

Get right or get left, these niggas know the business

Sweet loyalty to the Don is strong, mind if it ain't Corson?

Then they gotta bury Corson, he was the best guy around

What about the people he murdered? What murder?