On My Son (feat. Moneybagg Yo)

Ring, ring, ring
 Hello?
 Got a call from my lawyer, say my youngin' fightin' a murder (what?)
 The police officers lyin' and the prosecutor dirty (you're telling me you built a time machine?)
 But the judge still fuck with me
 Bitch, them Bloods get touched for cheap
 I sell two for eight apiece
 I might turn one of 'em to three
 If they say that shit was straight, I might turn that three to eight
 I know P, I fuck with H (I know P, I fuck with H)
 Really had the bag for years, passed alone, I'm cashin' too
 Bustdown watch, my glasses too
 Tez had bean, I had the food
 Flip that screen, I see myself
 R.I.P. Scooter, R.I.P. Lil Neff
 That homicide shit still get stretched
 Free Lil Quez, free Lil Dunk
 Better get you soon, nigga, on my son
 Bustdown Pateks with chunks
 I wear baguettes for none, don't make this shit 'bout no money
 Make that lil' bitch delete my number
 Soon as I can't fuck her, now I don't want her
 Close to 40s, all my pointers
 Offset Forgis, this bitch fast
 Ain't shit changed, still free my guys
 Wood 'nem back in there like a mop
 Six to nine, bitch, don't get dropped
 Hey, hey, fuck it
 I'm late, Supreme, not Bape, for mines
 Get naked, I might start ringing, bring pints
 We drinkin', high as hell up in this bitch
 Still miss Nell up in this bitch
 I can't tell if that bitch is real
 I won't tell my nigga to chill
 I don't give a fuck 'bout who get killed
 I don't give a fuck 'bout who get blitzed
 Drop that five, nigga, throw that shit
 Eight out of ten still on my dick
 Still fuck friend, keep that bitch far
 It was just us, still got eight-hundred
 TSA mad, can't take a nigga money
 If I let a bitch steal from me, get shot
 Woah (woah), woah (woah)
 Can't wait 'til I run 'til a nigga get robbed, get smoked, smoked
 Never let a nigga 'round me throwin' five (ah, hahaha)
 Gunshot, pain in my ass
 We pour out lean for my big bro Mox
 Walk a nigga down on four-five Glocks (go)
 I ain't spread an opp since I been rich (no)
 Handicap match, big Glock, lil' switch (pfft)
 Fuck out my ear with that whinin' shit (move)
 You blowin' my vibe, pipe down, lil' bitch (gone)
 If Duggy don't fuck with you, don't be like, "Bagg, know what's up with me"
 I cannot vouch what you done (nah)
 If you don't fuck with him, you don't rock with the brand (ooh)
 CMG mafia, cars, money, guns (super)
 Just made his bond for a light honey bun
 Hop on a fugitive, bro on the run
 The F&N knock all the smoke out your lung (bop)
 The head was so fire, made a young nigga hum, uh
 Sloppy-top, got me locked, Birkin, pussy, she havin' WAP (wet)
 Box of woods, Q-P of Za, purple Wock' and cream soda pop (kick)
 Eeenie-meenie, miney-mo (bliss)
 Put a tag up on his toe (tick)
 Charge the high for truffle smoke
 Pour up in Sprite and sell the Coke, go
 Whip all white, pull up like pope (snow)
 Five shows, it's a M I gross (woah)
 Big facts, I ain't even tryna boast (no)
 Bitches love me coast to coast (yeah)
 Eight out of ten still on my dick
 Still fuck friend, keep that bitch far
 It was just us, still got eight-hundred
 TSA mad, can't take a nigga money
 If I let a bitch steal from me, get shot
 Woah (woah), woah (woah)
 Can't wait 'til I run 'til a nigga get robbed, get smoked, smoked
 Never let a nigga 'round me throwin' five
 Gunshot, pain in my ass
 We pour out lean for my big bro Mox
 Walk a nigga down on four-five Glocks