(KILLY)
Yeah, yeah, KILLY, hol' up yeah yeah yuh
I got my hand on the racks, look at me now
Walk in the bank and I laugh, you walk in and frown
In the GLS six-hundred truck, I’m ridin’ around
I done walked so they could run
They copied and sell
I got no ice in my lean, yeah
I put the ice all on me, yeah
And when I’m in the city they get turnt up (Yeah)
And I don’t want your pity, don’t want your fake love (Yeah)
If I do not have it then I’ll take some (Yeah)
But I been had it, I’m causing havoc
Got a Rollie’ on my wrist, but I want the, patek (Yeah)
Hold up, hold up, hold up, got me fuxked up (Yeah)
Hold up, hold up, why they got me fuxked up (Yeah)
Coming for my head, turn them racks up (Yeah)
And who that boy right there, turned up mad sus
These days we got it in, we not giving it up