text: Man, now they go 
  I cut off some friends, where they go?
  I stick to the plan, thats the goal
  Fuck these niggas man, man, man, man 
  Check my bankroll, ayo, 400K for vehicle
  Paintjob look like ashy ankles on Django, interior look mango
  Shotgun grape, he look like mayo
  Golden voice on payroll, neck all gold like Kayo Corp
  We aim at dorks, get out the way, yo
  Keep them bucks in banks like Yayo
  Swampy niggas out the bayou
  Pockets flooded, yall be dilute
  Watered down, Im Big Mac
  Im quarter pound, you chicken nugget
  Fuck it, travel bag Balenciaga, 30,000 just for luggage
  Financial advisor buggin, Flower Boy is buzzin
  Grammy-nominated, tell yo cousin aint nobody fuckin with him
  Man, now they go
  I cut off some friends, where they go?
  I stick to the plan, thats the goal
  Fuck these niggas man, thats for sure
  Say
  Uno the shoe, red with the blue
  Look like a flag, what the fuck it do?
  Golf be the set, no more OF
  Like Ron Artest, bitch, we aim for your neck
  Give a fuck about you or your respect
  Yeah, that way, fuck your accolades
  But I made the cut like I pack a blade
  You could call me Brush, Ive been makin waves
  Since Ashley Banks cousin had a fade
  But thats 92, Im 91 
  Watts Riot in my blood, nigga whats up
  And that pussy pink like the drink in my cup
  Lemonade, yeah its Minute Maid
  I been gettin paid, pockets gainin weight
  Your bank statements on Mary Kate, but thats up to you, haha
  Man, now they go
  I cut off some friends, where they go?
  I stick to the plan, thats the goal
  Fuck these niggas man, thats for sure 
  Tell Tim Chalamet to come get at me
  Skin glowin, clear of acne
  Diamonds see-through, so holographic
  Red Ones look like Aidan Mackey
  Spent dinero like Taxi Driver 
  Handmade is that thing with tires
  But I rode the bike and Vill tail behind me
  And he got the Cannon like he bagged Mariah
  Yeah, we straight but if you wrinkle up the situation he will go grab the iron
  And he do what I says like Simon
  And my bitch mixed like jambalaya
  Man, fuck with the fam, we in Japan
  Bitch you’re a bum, see you dont understand
  Yeah, I cut off some friends, T where you been?
  Bitch Im in Bel-Air, been lookin for land
  Need a spot in the hills, not the beach, need a pool
  Just to cool it, I do need the grass, not the sand
  Got enough rocks, see, check my hand
  And I got crack, watch how I talk
  And its still Wolf Gang, bitch, watch how I bark 
  Wallace still trippin on shit that I bought
  But I really do not care the cost cause...
  Man, now they go
  I cut off some friends