[Intro: Lil' Troy & Yungstar]
Baller, shot caller
Twenty-inch blades on the Impala
Call her, gettin' laid tonight
Swisher rolled tight, got sprayed by Ike (Happy holiday)
Green, man, I'm lookin clean
Want remote control
Green, man, I'm lookin clean
Want remote control
Green, man, I'm lookin clean
Want remote control
Green, man, I'm lookin clean
Want remote control

[Verse 1: Neek Bucks]
By six the morning, I'm fuckin' this bitch to a Drake song (Let's go)
But we ain't into saving these bitches 'cause we ain't the ones with the capes on ('Cause we ain't the ones with the capes on)
We in the spot, throwin' them hundreds, them twenties, them fifties (Shake it, ayy, shake it)
She shakin' that ass, she shakin' them titties (Shake it)
And nah, we rockin' the city, I like you enough, you gon' get some new titties (No cap)
And when I woke up in this bitch, I don't go through security, bro got the section (Let's go)
Damn, lil' brodie, they caught him on camera, he shot and he missed 'em (Ah, ah)
Just caught a new case and I'm prayin' them bitches dismiss it (Prayin' them bitches dismiss it)
Yeah, look, I don't ever go to her block 'cause I know that she mixy (Yeah, know that she mixy)
Look, and whatever I tell that lil' ho, she believe it like Ripley (Let's go)
Tryna stop me when they know I'ma score (Yeah)
If she trippin', I just get her Dior (Yeah)
And she gon' fuck me 'cause she know I'm the boy (I'm the boy)
Ass so fat, she gotta do that lil' jump to get in them shorts
Like, I ain't Your Honor, baby, I won't judge you
I won't take you to court, like (I won't take you to court)
But why you fuckin' on that n***a, though?
I heard that n***a's a dork (I heard that n***a's a—)
And when them haters on your ass, it ain't no mission abort
In and out you, girl, fuckin' all night long, sweatin' like we playin' sports (Yeah, yeah)
[Chorus: Lil' Troy & Neek Bucks]
Baller, shot caller
Twenty-inch blades on the Impala
Call her, gettin' laid tonight (And this shit for the city, n***a)
Swisher rolled tight, got sprayed by Ike (Yeah, yeah, and Wiz, how we on it?)

[Verse 2: Wiz Khalifa]
Two bitches lickin' each other while we in the club
'Nother bitch rubbin' her titties, I think I'm in love
Smokin' and drankin', I'm thinkin' she leavin' with us
Big ol' bag of kush, she in the cut
Put this Casamigo in your cup
Heard this hookah turn you to a slut
Heard you got a few issues with trust
Heard you let 'em look, but they don't touch
I'm in my bag and she in her bag, her friend gettin' nasty
Right in the club, she wanna suck dick, she leaned over and asked me
I'm breakin' it down and rollin' it up, I'm puttin' that gas in
That face look good, them titties is real, that ass is assin'

[Chorus: Lil' Troy, Wiz Khalifa & Chrishan]
Baller, shot caller (Hahaha)
Twenty-inch blades on the Impala (Haha, yeah, I like that)
Call her, gettin' laid tonight (Yeah, they called me)
Swisher rolled tight, got sprayed by Ike (Shake it, shake it, shake it, shake it)
Hitmaka
[Verse 3: Chrishan]
Ooh (Ayy, yeah), out of sight
Twenty bands I ran through (Ooh)
Yeah, pussy tight
Tell him he can't have you (Ayy), oof, yeah, out of time
Ooh (Ayy, ayy), out of sight
Ooh (Ayy), out of sight
Twenty bands I ran through (Ooh)
Yeah, pussy tight
Tell him he can't have you (Ayy), oof, yeah, out of time
Ooh (Ayy, ayy), out of sight