[Intro: Ken Carson]
Yeah
Yeah (Ha, ha, ha)
Yeah

[Verse 1: Ken Carson]
I ain't got no friends
I'm posted with the gang, you a lame, you can't get in
I love my n***as, they my gang
Hell nah, they ain't got no friends
He just pop pills and sip drank
He'll never be like Ken
I took a hundred out the bank and I put it on your mans
He ain't got nothin' in the bank, he broke as fuck, look at his pants
Got like four mil' for my advance
I ride around town with a bitch from France
I do what I want, you do what you can
I do what you don't, 'cause I got them bands
If you ain't talkin' money I can't hear what you sayin'

[Verse 2: Lil Tecca]
Do what I do, don't care what you sayin'
My life is a movie, livin' on demand
I been that n***a, but now I'm the man
Saw n***as switched up, took a different stance
I seen the racks and took a second glance
How you move funny and fuck up a chance?
I know she gon' do it for you, but I bet the bands finna make her dance
Showin' no effort, I already know it
Feel like I'm Sosa, already glowin'
Chill with the ones, bitch, we so chosen
East to the West, I be still coastin'
I might just hit this bitch, then I be ghostin'
They doin' the most, I ain't tryna be noticed
Don't fuck with these n***as, "bro" that, "bro" this
You don't even got that, bought that, sold this
[Verse 3: Destroy Lonely]
Yeah
I just hopped off my motherfuckin' flight, yeah
I'm scrollin' on my fuckin' phone, yeah
I'm thinkin' what ho I'ma try, yeah
I just pulled up to my telly, bitch, and now I'm finna get high, yeah
I just hit that lil' bad-ass bitch, but I can't make her mine, yeah
You n***as pull up and try this shit, I swear to God they die, yeah
Racks in, but I spent all that shit, on me Number (N)ine, yeah
YSL my jeans, lil' bitch, yes, I get stupid fly, yeah
When I touchdown on the East, bitch, yeah, we play with them Five's, yeah
Bitch, I'm with my guys, woah, bitch, I'm way too fried, yeah
Bitch, I'm way too high, can't eat, lil' bitch, I order fries, yeah
These n***as, they fake as fuck, yeah, they just in disguise, yeah
And these n***as don't make enough to go to war with I

[Verse 4: Ken Carson]
These n***as don't make enough
Boy, I know your life real tough
I'm chasin' that bag, I'm countin' it up
I ain't gotta brag you know what's up
Boy, look at the tag my bitch ran up
I just dropped a bag on me and her
These n***as be starvin', I'm eatin' up
These n***as be sober, I'm geekin' up
You dream about that bitch, I'm freakin' her
This a Rolls Royce, ain't no Jeep in here
I spot an opp, now I'm creepin' up
Say hello to my Glock, let's meet, good luck
You know how I rock, bitch, I don't give no fuck
He mad at my cock, 'cause it been in her
He ain't sendin' no drop, 'cause he scared as fuck
If that boy send the drop, then we tearin' it up
Here, you know that we sprayin' it up
Pass me the ball, bitch, I'm layin' it up
I swear this shit be easy as fuck
Hit your ho from the back, she was greasy as fuck
You be claimin' that bitch, she be eatin' dick up
You broke and we rich, you can't mingle with us
You say that she yours, but she single with us
I was fuckin' that bitch, we was on the tour bus