FWM (feat. YFN Lucci)

What? What? What?
 I'm a real street nigga, baby, fuck with me, yeah (What? What?)
 Whack a nigga's mammy, talk 'bout playing with my family
 I sell dope just like my daddy, and still use hoes for they addys
 Locking off these Addies, I'ma try to send 'em where my granny stay
 On Lily May, I'ma try to put one in the dirt today
 Broad day, make them pop out on you with the chicken plates
 Pick a date, time or place, we gon' see you out
 High speed on the e-way, make sure Fat Boy throw the yeeky out
 Y'all was doing straight, hiding that hate 'til it start leaking out
 Gas station, I'm tryna steal a J so I'm passing testers out
 Bag waiting, go ahead and spank him if you see him out
 Big hater, we can't even grazе him, he don't leave his housе
 I don't speak no lies inside my rhymes, like I got Jesus mouth
 T-shirt came in wrinkled, I'm iron it, I'ma starch it
 I'ma mark it and then leave some extra, make it how you want it, nigga
 I'ma spend my whole label check buying Fendi
 Dog food, you know that I keep that dog with me
 Good gas, tryna spread that bag through the city
 I'm a real street nigga, baby, fuck with me
 Ten thousand cash for some ass and some titties
 One thousand bags, half grams, all fifties
 These designer drugs, so my water not dripping
 I'm a real street nigga, baby, fuck with me (Yeah, look, uh)
 I'ma spend my whole label check buying Louis (Yeah)
 Boss nigga, bitch, I been flexin', ain't nothing to it
 I just copped the Rolls Royce and parked it in the hood
 I got that 2018 Maybach, that bitch trimmed in wood
 You ain't making no noise, like my Rolls Royce
 We be throwing shots, y'all be throwing darts
 Bring out that GT, man, that bitch look like a lone shark
 Bring out them VVs, make them do they homework
 This shit here 'round my wrist, I got this off one verse
 I ain't no dog, but my dawg, he got Vicked, nigga, I ain't perpin'
 If you ain't talkin' 'bout a meal ticket, we ain't conversing
 We put opp niggas into hearses, I'm so serious
 I'ma spend my whole label check buying Fendi
 Dog food, you know that I keep that dog with me
 Good gas, tryna spread that bag through the city
 I'm a real street nigga, baby, fuck with me
 Ten thousand cash for some ass and some titties
 One thousand bags, half grams, all fifties
 These designer drugs, so my water not dripping
 I'm a real street nigga, baby, fuck with me, yeah, yeah