Yes, You Did (with Real Boston Richey)

Gang
 Don't even look over here (thanks, Yakree)
 Gang
 Shit (shit)
 Yeah, I'm so sick of niggas
 Yeah, pull up, S550, spit in my ho mouth when I kiss her
 Yeah, rich 'round drug dealers, yeah, rich 'round real killers
 Yeah, could've been a victim, I ain't say that, yes, you did (bah)
 I'm so deep, my duffy and my bag and my Prada
 Yeah, $4K for this coat, I'm a G.O.A.T., reppin' that project rap
 Dripped up to the floor, bitch, I'm soaked, overflowed
 He won't do whatever I do, this nigga my son, that's on folk, nigga
 Yeah, niggas wan' see my downfall
 When you get some money, number one rule, put your mans on
 Bubble for eight hundred, I got it for low, feel like I scammed son
 Hundred pounds a day, I got my cake up off of cell phones
 Still hustlin' 'til my day come
 Dog nigga who known for droppin' whores when I need badder bitches
 Starvin' just like Marvin when you niggas was eatin' Sunday dinner
 Love a bitch who treat me like a god, never touch my business
 Send drugs to the house, you tell me stay every time I come and get 'em
 Lord, yeah, paid in full like Ace 'nem, ballin' like I'm Shaq twin
 Yeah, trappin', rappin', same time, packin' in my backend
 Yeah, steppin' on they neck, I just ran up a check
 House arrest, six months, but I bounced back
 Just thank the Lord I rap, nigga
 Yeah, I'm so sick of niggas
 Yeah, pull up, S550, spit in my ho mouth when I kiss her
 Yeah, rich 'round drug dealers, yeah, rich 'round real killers
 Yeah, could've been a victim, I ain't say that, yes, you did (bah)
 I'm so deep, my duffy and my bag and my Prada
 Yeah, $4K for this coat, I'm a G.O.A.T., reppin' that project rap
 Dripped up to the floor, bitch, I'm soaked, overflowed
 He won't do whatever I do, this nigga my son, that's on folk, nigga
 Make sure my bitches and my glizzies get makeovers, new BBL
 They say you catch a body, you in the chances of goin' to Hell
 I'm already flamed up, I don't think I too much care
 Under investigation, they say I'm poppin' fraudulent checks at Wells
 But them crackers trippin', they know I'm out here trappin' and sellin' bales
 Know my phone jumpin', you know I ain't gotta run to every cell
 I got my hood jumpin', you know I ain't do this shit all by myself
 Is she good at fuckin'? You know I'm buyin' bundles of that hair
 I'm blowin' that shit, bitch, I don't care
 I'm not talkin' 'bout buyin' some ass, I'm talkin' 'bout lettin' off them shells
 I'll fuck, then turn around, then fuck the game, no, it ain't fair
 I don't care nothin' 'bout no rap shit, I'm still out here servin' squares
 (Shit) yeah, I'm so sick of niggas
 Yeah, pull up, S550, spit in my ho mouth when I kiss her
 Yeah, rich 'round drug dealers, yeah, rich 'round real killers
 Yeah, could've been a victim, I ain't say that, yes, you did (bah)
 I'm so deep, my duffy and my bag and my Prada
 Yeah, $4K for this coat, I'm a G.O.A.T., reppin' that project rap
 Dripped up to the floor, bitch, I'm soaked, overflowed
 He won't do whatever I do, this nigga my son, that's on folk, nigga