GIVE BACK

EvilGiane, Surf Gang bitch!

And the bitch come back when the bands come back

And the bitch come back when them bands come back

And them niggas so mad cause they can't get back

And I can’t trust niggas gotta watch my back

And that boy so broke but he tryna get back

And I ride through the bity yea, tryna get back

Yeah imma sleaze in the back of the back

In the back of the bank yea finna click clack

For a pint of the tris, yea I'm finna tax tax

And I do sip wock but that shit really trash

You rockin' with Evolving Public, on gang

In the back of the back yea I’m counting up racks

And she fucking everybody like that bitch Katt Stacks

I was way too young, I ain't sippin no Ac

Wide receiver, I be tossing the pack

You cross me, then I ain't lookin back

Don't hold a grudge but I can't let go

We slide on his foreign give him bullet holes

My shooter got afro like they from the holes

I'm counting up money waiting for the hoes

I'm sippin on drank she like let it go

I really put drank over hoes

My diamonds they water like a fuckin hose

You ain't talking money nigga then it’s adios

And she shakin that ass, watch it overload

Got 25K, walkin with a load

I’m waiting for smoke like a game loading

I'm all about green like a fuckin toad

See word around town nigga, that you told

I don’t got a fever but these diamonds cold

They know my story, nigga, cause you told em

Smokin' on pressure

Smokin on pressure

Back to back foreigns just packing a jet

If I need me a perc I call up Moh Baretta

And the bitch come back when the bands come back

And the bitch come back when them bands come back

And them niggas so mad cause they can't get back

And I can't trust niggas gotta watch my back

And that boy so broke but he tryna get back

And I ride through the bity yea, tryna get back

Yeah imma sleaze in the back of the back

In the back of the bank yea finna click clack

For a pint of the tris, yea I’m finna tax tax

And I do sip wock but that shit really trash

In the back of the back yea I'm counting up racks

And she fucking everybody like that bitch Katt Stacks

I was way too young, I ain't sippin no Ac

Wide receiver, I be tossing the pack

You cross me, then I ain't lookin back

Don't hold a grudge but I can't let go

We slide on his foreign give him bullet holes

My shooter got afro like they from the holes

I'm counting up money waiting for the hoes

I'm sippin on drank she like let it go

I really put drank over hoes

My diamonds they water like a fuckin hose

You ain't talking money nigga then it's adios

And she shakin that ass, watch it overload

Got 25K, walkin with a load

I'm waiting for smoke like a game loading

I'm all about green like a fuckin toad

See word around town nigga, that you told

I don't got a fever but these diamonds cold

They know my story, nigga, cause you told em

Smokin' on pressure

Smokin on pressure

Back to back foreigns just packing a jet

If I need me a perc I call up Moh Baretta