(*talking*) Gotta walk it out Rogers, this for my Southside n***as mayn You know I'm hearing the rumors mayn They say that ain't where I'm from, I'm hearing the rumors But I'ma do this one for Dead End n***a, that's right run it [Kyleon] I'm from that Dead End area, where them n***as'll bury ya Run up with a danger, put one in your darrier Still selling oil, like I'm Bush and them terrorists And got that white, locking like a pitbull terrier I'm addicted to the game, that's my b**h I might marry her Diamonds on that ring finger, made her my Beyonce k**a gotta eat, getting money is my entree Pocket full of chips, block hotter than Picante Some say game over, miss me with that Flip sh** I need's mine, so I'm cooking crack up like it's Bisquick And no I don't miss licks, I got the block on DVR Call me Marlowe, I give a dead block CPR Corner boy, spit fire through the wire n***as claim to be the truth, but I am they just liars Hand on that guac', and I'm gripping like pliers Getting drunk I'm round the club, like fliers highest Head Honcho, still getting work from Poncho I'm making cash money, so you know I'm finna stunt hoe Money talk but I'm quiet, bullsh** irrelevant f** with my bread, and get a bullet through your skeleton Juggle green genie, with the insides elephant Candy paint wet, so you know I'm fish tailing it Hit a block with a block, I'm fish scaling it And yeah I got em for cheap, you need it I'm selling it [Hook] Y'all n***as, ain't talking bout nothing If you don't make money, the topic of your discussion My n***a, what is y'all saying DJ, what the f** is you playing I hear them n***as talking loud, but they ain't saying sh** I guess that's why the DJ, ain't playing sh** My n***a, what is y'all saying DJ, what the f** is you playing