3 way ft. Young mark & Big SuGG

Got the flight leave, I might do the wrong things for the right reasons Big bitch I'm about to touch down with the bags

Them fake perks what got you feeling crazy, ain't mad, it's liquor Don't even try to fuck that bitch, just put the bag in her

Ain't put no soda in the beaker, now it's caviar Unless I probably would've fucked your bitch, but she ain't have a sitter

Everything that I got, bust my ass to get it Rude came home from the box with a half a ticket

My bop said she fucking with the fool, cause the crack could kill you I'd probably still re-up if I had a million

30 minutes now, I'm parking, about to serve a pill Y'all be flexing with them lil' bullets, we prepared to send them

If the plug don't know nothing, he know where to send it Heat sensor on the AR, nigga, where the bitch at

Choppa bullets hopping out that chop, I hope they get em I just pulled up a 8-0, Wocky's in my system

Dollar tips aiming at his top, I hope they get em Mama keep on telling me to stop, I keep on spinning

Taxing on a different bracket, you know we active You know that I'm a gangster, I'm still standing on my jacket