[ Featuring GRM Daily ]
I took my niggas 'round the world and back
Still tryna find addresses to mail some packs
More time I'm chillin' on the streets with some niggas (Zino Records)
Wearin' kufis and Christians on their feet, uh (Karlos got that beat)
Trapstar and I let my ting go
In the interview room, I don't know nothin' like a bimbo
Don't compare me to all these trappers barely makin' cash
I had Kylie Jenner, these niggas were sellin' trailer trash
When, when you met me, I had my .9 on me (.9 on me)
And she can feel it when she whines on me
I still remember trappin' in the rain
All these grown men dependin' like they hangin' on my chain, uh
I'm in the hood burnin' a Cali zoot
Gangster, or random yute?
I crash him like Bandicoot
All them niggas had a run, now, it's my hood's turn
Trapstar, fam', I re-ed up more than a bookworm
In the bando eatin' Chinese wings
Strap came with two bodies like Siamese twins
Why you partyin'? Fam', you're an intern
Told 'em that the weed won't sell itself, in my hood, I'm like Big Worm
They act like these Instagram reels are real
Two twin Glocks lookin' like Phill and Lil'
I ain't always get long dough
Had to do the nightshift with the white walkers like John Snow
Uh, I'm a boss, f*ck the competition
All the beef I squashed, I should be a politician
They don't know about the curbs I plough
I get rid of weight quicker than Sherman Klump (uh)
Trapstars love it when I f*ck up a track
'Cause this ain't that soft shit, this that hustler rap
Told my worker to tell 'em we ain't runnin', now, I'm back
Niggas always lyin' 'bout how much dust is in the pack (uh)
My chick looks like she's up on the runway
And, they all look the same, like, what happened to Monday?
I was so broke, it was mental
Had to consign crack then, whip it back like a rental
Them times, I was sellin' no green
Had the plug droppin' Coke like a vendin' machine
As long as it's fresh, I don't care if it's new season
I get a check every line like I'm proofreadin'
I hope my guys don't get caught
I come like Man City 'cause I give these youngins pep-talk
I just made three milli'
So much weed, I need the same scales they use to weigh Free Willy (uh)
My chains watered down like diluted drinks
If I was every window shoppin', I was buyin' new tints
Me in cells screamin', "Free my nigga Shells"
All my bullets come with red tips like acrylic nails
Trapstars shit, I said that already
But, I been gettin' money since Ed, Edd n Eddy
I'm hardly in the hood, I rather oversea it
All my business is, mumsy could oversee it
They ain't f*ckin' with the trainers that I drip
They come like Bill Rocker, they ain't got no kicks (uh)
I had half the party on pills
Sittin' on bricks like a car with no wheels
I used to sell drawers from door to door
Like hand-me-downs, you ain't been in war before
Remember when I had a little star wars, until my opps' albums went triple cardboard
Try imagine how me and my brother Jack felt
When it comes to landin' these ki's, we was black belt (my nigga)
When I fly out, I don't use a suitcase
Gang shit, still clean my jewels with toothpaste
We been poppin' like half the winter
You ain't heard? You must live under a rock like Master Splinter
Uh, now they're sayin' that I rap the hardest
Crop Circle drawer on me like a Tidal artist
It's Nines
