FTN

[Verse 1: Draft Day]

Huh, concrete baby (Concrete)

Money on my mind, we need this shit, it drove us crazy

Double up that pack, I need that back, that shit out front, no need to be blunt

I don't give a fuck if it was fourth and whatever, lil' nigga, we still wouldn't punt

Nigga, we still wouldn't fake kick it

[Interlude: Draft Day & DC2Trill]

Huh, fake-ass (Why would I?)

Huh, fake-ass (Why would I?)

Huh, fake-ass nigga (Why would I kick it?)

Yeah, why?

These niggas ain't gettin' no money for real (FWP shit, nigga)

[Verse 2: Draft Day]

On your second strike, he ready to snatch shit like he Swiper (Swipe)

Book bag to the front, he don't give a fuck, he going striker (Shit)

It ain't nothin' but fine shit in here, I'ma Roddy pipe her (Hot)

Fifty floors, stunt man, I'm a real sniper (Fifty, fifty, fifty, stunt man)

Leather soft, Bottega biker

Finesse like MJ, but I'm both Michaels

I've been in rows with most of my idols

They can't come 'cause I earned my title

I got this shit from the dust, she gon' suck 'til I bust, know it's us 'til the dust