Straight Like That

I went from gettin’ a bag to hittin’ the dab

You can run off with the cash but I wouldn’t do that

Got hittas to blast, deliver the gas

Get a line on your ass then we run through that

Stocks when it’s rainin’, Forgi’s when the sun out

Whatever nigga do, please don’t bring the gun out

We be in the dugout; bitch probably dug out

Wherever money at, tell her B-la in route

Cookie, that’s my old bitch, I been had that

Jello and Gellato four door is a pack

Summertime dip season all at Durant's

Gon’ take the whole navy just to trim these plants

B-la got a plan though, AR commando

Mac named “Fernando”, daddy play the banjo

We gon’ take the plan slow and rock on out

Catch the early harvest, we gon’ crop y’all out

Uh, ay, ay, straight like that

Uh, ay, ay, straight like that

Uh, ay, ay, straight like that

Uh, ay, ay, straight like that

Uh, ay, ay, straight like that

BIATCH! I’m on that fuel, that oil

Tycoon vodka and ginger beer in my cup, Moscow Mule

If I get caught with my tool, it’s gon’ be drastic

Rather be with than without instead of laying up in a casket

As a capitalist, it’s a habit

It’s magic, I make it happen

These bitches be on a player like a K-9 on a package

Every time that I’m on the phone

I’m talking Pig Latin (Pig Latin)

"Baby girl" is when you rappin’ and you trizznappin’

I know a whole bunch of suckas

That say they real but they some cowards

Without the liquor, the powder,

The crystal meth and the pills

I grew up in the Hills on the other side of the gravel

Where we keep our lips sealed

And we don’t talk, tell or tattle

I give back to my people as I should (as I should)

I don’t fuck with niggas that’s no good (that’s no good)

Do unto others as they do unto you

And never turn your back on your crew (real spill…BIATCH!)

Ay, ay, ay, straight like that

Ay, ay, ay, straight like that

Uh, ay, ay, straight like that

Uh, ay, ay, straight like that

Po-po handcuff us and put chains on us just like a tire

Like a car in the snow in Mount Washington New Hampshire

My bill straps on walrus, they hella fat and they blubbery

Might go to Caesars, spend 20 racks on some Burberry

The amount of bluebacks

I’ve been making is stunning and groundbreaking

I be triplin’ and doublin’ my moola, ain’t no mistakin’

Earl Stevens out’chere movin’

I’m proven, no hustlin’ backwards

Hella rappers I thought was real need Emmys

They really actors

Non-factor, non-actor, don’t matter

Smoke fatter, bitch badder, zip shatter

Stick louder, click-clack it for chit-chatter

Brick stack, on the ground with six bangers

Moonlight, baby, I’m the child of the sun

You lookin’ like money, probably getting me some

Yeah, they lookin’ like dummy, you ain’t getting me none

Now I’m lookin’ back like, “Nigga, huh?” (Nigga, huh)

Ay, ay, ay, straight like that

Ay, ay, ay, straight like that

Uh, ay, ay, straight like that

Uh, ay, ay, straight like that

Uh…