[Intro: Pressa]
Uh, ayy
We kick her out of the mansion
Ayy, y'all, look
Uh
[Chorus: Pressa & Houdini]
She keep on nagging a ni**a on dumb sh*t
You gon' get yourself kicked out of the mansion, you dumb b*tch
Small things, like look how much ni**as you come with
She, uh, she put on a dress and blow trumpets
We, uh, kick her out of the mansion to junction
We known to fu*k up the city, destruction
My b*tch just don't wanna hang and do cute sh*t
She keep on making up stupid assumptions
[Verse 1: Pressa]
I just bought a Cuban but feel like I got finessed
Heard jewelers mixin' diamonds, wanna know if I got stretched
My ni**a lookin' at life, but can't imagine doing that
His lawyer a hundred thousand, try and come up here with half
I still pull up on anywhere with money on my head
I— I be with them golden childs, gold all in they dreads
And I know some b*tch ni**as with problems they won't address
You see, I done lost my ni**a, ain't no tellin' where he went
I was on the corner eating rice and chicken bowls
I knew I could trust that b*tch with twenty bands that she would hold
Screaming Wassi in every song, man, this sh*t will never get old, uh
Pure cocaine, if it's not, it won't get sold
[Chorus: Pressa & Houdini]
She keep on nagging a ni**a on dumb sh*t
You gon' get yourself kicked out of the mansion, you dumb b*tch
Small things, like look how much ni**as you come with
She, uh, she put on a dress and blow trumpets
We, uh, kick her out of the mansion to junction
We known to fu*k up the city, destruction
My b*tch just don't wanna hang and do cute sh*t
She keep on making up stupid assumptions
[Verse 2: Houdini]
I just bought some work, and that ho' bad, I ain't get kawalled
Now her ni**as dope impaired, they really thinkin' that its raw, uh
I was getting the pack all day for my pops, uh
I was serving the crack cocaine in my mom's house
Buckets circle the trap all night, merry-go-round
Whatever you do in the dark might come to the light if they talk about it
Bet you wanna come put up a fight, you gotta be grown about it
I could stomp big racks up in these mics, don't got illegal money
That ni**a, he got shot up in his eye, he never seen it comin'
I never even gave that b*tch a blah, I told her, "Beat it, honey"
Got so many options, can't even decide, too many labels want me
Up in the mansion and we livin' life, ni**a, we made of money
[Chorus: Pressa & Houdini]
She keep on nagging a ni**a on dumb sh*t
You gon' get yourself kicked out of the mansion, you dumb b*tch
Small things, like look how much ni**as you come with
She, uh, she put on a dress and blow trumpets
We, uh, kick her out of the mansion to junction
We known to fu*k up the city, destruction
My b*tch just don't wanna hang and do cute sh*t
She keep on making up stupid assumptions (Ayy)
[Outro: Pressa]
My b*tch don't wanna hang with your b*tch
My b*tch don't wanna hang with your b*tch