Serving

[Intro: Rome Streetz]

You know what the fuck it is, nigga

[Verse 1: Rome Streetz]

Ayo, you bums minor, never Major League (Nah)

Fuck my P.O., fuck the judge, fuck the D.A., fuck the agency (Fuck y'all)

Started off with an eighth and E, small paper, now we racing AMG's (Skrrt)

All you niggas washed up, to say the least

Plug mailed the work, i never wait a week (Nah)

Weighing work on scales Been the way I eat

Scamming in the bank, fake state ID

Watch what you post on the internet, Jake follow with a fake IG

My niggas real right, double R (Brrat)

Nothing lucky, had to hustle hard (Nah)

Cooking work up in the smucker jar

Nah, you could never ever fuck with ours (Never)

We push foreign cars through the fog, been a don, Louis on, that's Virgil shit

Sold Acid, Weed, Molly, Percocet

Flygod told me murder this (Brra, Bah)

Been merciless

Quarter brick or its 10 bands for a verse of this

Did the money dance, in the junkie's hand, dropped 20 Xans, I been servin' shit

Motherfucker

(Fuck outta here)

[Bridge: Skit]

The first time you try it, you don't like it

It ain't nothing to like, It's something to be scared of

[Verse 2: Boldy James]

Junkie fell through, stolen car radio, flat screen and a twelve speed

Grew up servin' pops, hover rocks to the crack fiends, I don't sell weed (I don't)

Now we pullin' up in V12 v's with Louis chucks with the LV's (Yeah)

Finna floor the pedal, Ice water bezel, in the Urus truck with the F and E

Me and Flygod, big pole on me, that's a tied rod

Chalk white coupe. 4G's off set, but the dope whiter than an IPod

Union SB's (It's on me)

Sky dweller's face playing Peek-A-Boo

Undefeated on my left sleeve (Yeah)

Water whippin' like a jet-ski

Brand new sauer and an XD (Uh huh)

Cop a crash foreign and domestic, task force tryna run a crash course

Got the whole Warren, kinda zesty

Dropping glass, harder than some plexy

Still spinin' with the lefty (Spin)

Shooters on deck, shorty don't threat

Slidin' tinted up, niggas ridin' hotties all the strikers come with a red key (Brrr)

Counting paper like a spreadsheet (Beep)

Dodging raiders when the feds sweep (Aye)

Plottin' capers? Now he dead meat (Aye)

Bum rush his spig for them parakeets (Them birds)

Wrap his body up in the bed sheets

Still in the field like a pair of cleats

Stepped on the brick with two left feet

Quick to leave a nigga like a dead-beat

Where we at with it? (It's the jack God)

[Outro: Skit]

You see the stuff, we'll call you

It'll let you walk away from it, but it's always call you back