[Produced by Trackmasters]

[Verse 1]
Bitch mob, bitch, what it do
I make ya bitch fuck me
Real street n***a, so I prolly wouldn't trust me
Stay with the Glock wit the nine or the musket
I'm the Based God, so your bitch wanna fuck me
Bad coke deal, so we call this shit husky
Lookin' for a Lassie
Infrared dotted shotgun lookin' classy
Red dots on the boy, like a game
Shoutout to bitch stone, I'mma make Twitter
I got dope and stones, I got business stones
Pretty rich, rockstar I'm Rolling Stones
I got rows of stones
I'm rollin' holmes
Pop somethin' so quick that'll close your dome
Pop somethin' so quick that'll expose your dome
Come out, fuck this bitch, and raid your home
This is my time, I'mma fuckin' shine
N***as out west with the vicious grind
Fuck the boss, n***a, the bitch is mine
Won't break her back, the bitch is mine
Watch your bitch, fine
The bitch won't survive
I'mma fuckin', like 'em wet and slidin', you feel me?
Credit card and slide 'em
Don't make me pull out the receipts if I'm lyin'
I need a Mexicana Latina mami
I need a gangster bitch with a body
You feel me, that likes to start the party
Pop a couple pills and I see you in the morning
[Outro]
Little B, Little B you are the shit I'm talkin'
Little B, Little B, Little B you are the shit I'm talkin'
Little B, Little B, Little B you are the shit I'm sayin'
Little B, Little B, Little B won't you please come fuck with me