[Verse 1]
What up?! What's good?
f** sh** up? Think I should
Fooly Cooly, going looney
Couldn't fight so they tried to shoot me
Throw shots at ya corn rolls, turning them into morsels
So sick with the vocals, 4Lokos in chokeholds
And we, gettin' f**ed up
Don Cash with the blunts tucked, shots till my guts punched
Up chucked, b**hes uncut
Blick is the store, artistic visions try to pick at some more
Picky n***as need to fix up they flows
Thinking that this is the real way to go? Pathetic I know
[Hook] x2
Paint all on my gold x3
Hope this sh** never gets old
[Verse 2]
Paint all on my gold, this sh**'ll never get old
Pour it out, throw it up
Pour again? we going nuts
Poor who*es be textin', for more attention
So bored of questions, torn for affection
Nah not me, I don't have time for that dumb sh**
Duns are numb from that crumb sh**, scum get hit with them drum clips
Rum is swished through the gum spit
My mind's spinning like Yoshimitsu, Iron fist will get lift and it will not miss you
[Hook] x2