[Intro]
(I really like to use plugg)
(Bitch)
Let's do it
Go, goddamn
Go, go, go, yeah

[Chorus]
I'm flexin' on n***as with goddamn pounds
And the trap go up, we make bands go down
Shooter clap him up, we can make his name go 'round
That money talk, n***a, you don't make no sound
All my n***as gon' catch up, trappin' with the racks out
I just hit a play, touchdown
He had a strap, we gon' put his ass down
I love my dog but I still play with the pounds

[Verse 1]
N***as always wanna talk about somethin' but they don't wanna talk about money
N***a wanna talk about me but that Glock got a dick and that bitch so horny
It's early in the morning
Wake up to a check and the birds still yawnin'
It's a TEC on my hip, man, this bitch so official
Cleaner than a whistle, I get paid with my pistol
Runnin' through your trap, rip that bitch up like some tissue
Trap that sack but I rock Christian
We ain't paint the picture then it's artificial
I perform in that kitchen when I cook that cake
My form flawless when I put them pounds on the plate
Trappin', I move with that weight, they like, "He so out of shape"
I ain't even practice for the game, but I'm still flexin' every day
[Chorus]
I'm flexin' on n***as with goddamn pounds
And the trap go up, we make bands go down
Shooter clap him up, we can make his name go 'round
That money talk, n***a, you don't make no sound
All my n***as gon' catch up, trappin' with the racks out
I just hit a play, touchdown
He had a strap, we gon' put his ass down
I love my dog but I still play with the pounds

[Verse 2]
Drop him, toss him, spark him, I'm an arson
We go up like NASA, we gon' turn into a martian
When it come to flexin', shawty, I should be a sergeant
Don't you want some bands, dog, ain't your ass an artist?
I go stupid with that check, my necklace, it go retarded
She keep dancin' on my stick, I snuck my pistol in the party
Peewee Longway, my check blue
Flexin' with a piece, finna shit on you
Want a house in the hills so my shooter got a view
My plug ran a mil' so I gotta do it too

[Chorus]
I'm flexin' on n***as with goddamn pounds
And the trap go up, we make bands go down
Shooter clap him up, we can make his name go 'round
That money talk, n***a, you don't make no sound (I really like to use plugg)
All my n***as gon' catch up, trappin' with the racks out
I just hit a play, touchdown (Bitch)
He had a strap, we gon' put his ass down
I love my dog but I still play with the pounds
[Outro]
Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah