Back on Top

[Intro] (Antt did the track) Where we at, Beatz? Two-way, duece, siete [Chorus] You see the Cartis, nigga play with me and it's a pizza party You might've seen me on the Dyke with 5Z and Marty Insides crying, shit feel like a nigga dying Small things to a giant, I'ma come back out this shit on top I'ma come back out this shit on top I'ma come back out this shit on top [Verse 1] Three hundred grits of topside fresh up out the mixer Snatched the extras out the press and passed them out to my sniffers Stacked a thousand, kids smack down to split a mister Put it with this other seven, twenties slapping off the Richter Fеll in love with my junkie and my sifter Hеar them niggas say they getting money but I beg to differ Got a fiend at my ring, I met off Eileen Way she cook and clean for me, nigga damn near wanna kiss her Wish that I can win her often but she keep on calling Late nights, early morning, pulling up with big spenders Foreign Coupe on E, old school jamming like it's 92.3 Brick in a Benz fender From a nickel and dime ass nigga To a top hat balling big rigger, ghetto rich nigga Half brick of Whoa Nelly, all grits Gave my unc my old Pelle just for cleaning up the dog shit [Chorus] You see the Cartis, nigga play with me and it's a pizza party You might've seen me on the Dyke with 5Z and Marty Insides crying, shit feel like a nigga dying Small things to a giant, I'ma come back out this shit on top I'ma come back out this shit on top I'ma come back out this shit on top [Verse 2] She seen my blood died by hands of my enemy, niggas too finicky Slap a drum and a violin, that's a symphony You ever carried seven to fifteen hundro through a racist town? Ever touched a fifty clip so quick that that shit had you frightened? Thinking that he just might be a 'undo tryna take you down Brodie just came home from a dime and he right back indicted Clashing with the titans in the ten hundred eighty thou' I just hope that don't no guests show up unless that's uninvited While niggas tryna cup a board, I was tryna flight it Closed mouth don't get fed, you got the right to be silent Slide like a hoverboard, brick of Billie Eilish Touching down, then body more like I'm Johnny Unitas Hundred popper, quarter ticket milly rocker Guns butter popcorn, Orville Redenbacher Glock 19, least thirty in my choppy Little nephew chipping shit'll turn a nigga to a hot topic [Chorus] You see the Cartis, nigga play with me and it's a pizza party You might've seen me on the Dyke with 5Z and Marty Insides crying, shit feel like a nigga dying Small things to a giant, I'ma come back out this shit on top