New crib, who this? New whip, who this? New crib, who this? New whip, who this? New crib, who this? New whip, who this? New blick, who this? New switch, who this? You need a new bitch, you need a new everything You need a new kitty, at least get some new kicks You need to beat your hoe ass, she sendin' nude pics R-H-U-D-E, I'm on my rude tip Ayy, how the fuck I end up in the hood? How the fuck I end up in the 'burbs with a hoodrat? Ricky Owens with the zippers Bitch, I'm in my bookbag, come and get schooled Bitch, take your spend-the-night bag back in the crib I was out the way, but now I'm back up on the grid Cuddy in the kitchen with a slab, but not no ribs Might as well sit down 'cause when they stand, it's not on biz Is you scared of money? Play with mines, I'm on your ass just like a pair of undies We'll make it rain when the game ends, storm the field Unky prayin' that he beats the case and dodge a court appeal You ain't got a chance to hit my bitch, she too expensive In here wrestlin' with these pants, you tryna battle through depression You gotta buy the sauce, do this look like a Free Methodist? Cut a brick and pull a baby out, I just C-sectioned it Talk so much shit, talk so much shit Talk so much shit, I got reminders set to eat peppermints I done slayed hoes from Telegraph to East Jefferson Can you beat Militia, pussy? Can you eat beverages? If you want a job, the requirement's three references Tryna make it last forever but ain't Keith Sweatin' it Ain't no plays on your phone like why you keep checkin' it? Pull up in that white TRX like, Meet Pegasus I gotta jump like I'm tryna dunk to get into the truck You done got drunk and turned into a munch, you a punk You a crumb, you a chump, you a bum, you a flunk Got these lil' hoes suckin', same ones you would hump Catch him out in traffic, leave him honkin' with his fo- Catch him out in traffic, leave him honkin' with his fo- Catch him out in traffic, leave him honkin' with his forehead You won't hear me, you won't hear me talkin' like my phone dead We'll paint they block like that bitch on an easel Tryna get these oranges off, but all the junkies on the needles I done made over a hundred motion pics, Walt Disney Yeah, I got some dogs with me, but I ain't gon' toss Frisbees Finna run it up, it ain't no walk in me Teeth marks on my goosebumps, the chains frostbit me Everybody talkin' down like I won't be done bought Ypsi The whole 48197, 48198 Slide through, just a call, 1-481-9-DRAC Oh, you want the BIN? Well, it's 54819-, wait I can't give it to you I gotta face all this drank, I can't sip it with you Ain't no holdin' hands, shit, it's life, I can't live it with you If you gang, if you slime, I'ma split it with you I'ma go and get it with you I'm livin' life, but I'm prepared for death She gon' blow me, I'ma play her like a clarinet She just spun you, talkin' 'bout her hair a mess Best thing I did was turn my hustle up, start carin' less New crib, who this? New whip, who this? New blick, who this? New switch, who this? You need a new bitch, you need a new everything You need a new kitty, at least get some new kicks You need to beat your hoe ass, she sendin' nude pics R-H-U-D-E, I'm on my rude tip I'm the reason Ruth Chris out of toothpicks I'm the reason Somerset out of new drip You gon' live the same old life 'til you take new risks Everybody turned they water dirty, this the new Flint Evian off a V-cut, that's the blueprint Kevion, B&C, Benny, that's a few sticks My hoe Lavagirl, I'm Sharkboy in these blue tints FakeWatchBuster's on the way, he got a fluke wrist Had to shoot the Banshee through my coat, that's why the Goose ripped How the fuck I'm movin' too slow off of two sips? I don't sell work, but my left wrist, that's two bricks Someone find my Lincoln jersey, I'm back on my hoop shit (phew) I'm tryna score buckets I can have a milli' Midichlorians, won't force nothin' If you ain't start strong, you gotta finish double hard I done got mines broke, I done tore a couple hearts Shit, it's all fun and games 'til you see that muzzle spark Boy, I'm finna push the pedal like here come that rumble part (vroom) Hundred turkey bags, they smellin' like some underarms Up the glitchy, I ain't shy, I am not the thunder guard Man, the spring, fall, winter, and summer ours Flyin' off an eight of Quagen, damn near playin' bumper cars ShittyBoyz, Dog Shit Militia, long live $cam, you know