W4RD

[Intro]

Fuck, man

No fuckin' money, no fuckin' bitches to chill with

No mothafuckin' gas money

Shit

Holes in all my fuckin' shoes, nigga

Holes in all my socks

Man, what the fuck

Man, fuck it, fuck it

[Verse]

Rolled two cigarillos, had to get my trees up

Copped two more golds, had to get my steez up

Blow it in the wind breeze

80 dime bags boomin' like Alicia Keys

Wakin' up around 9, seen the nigga on the grind

Real wavy type shit

Real creative ass niggas with a foreign type bitch

Coke stains on her lips, from the 'caine that she licked

But an under down bitch

Terrorist Posse is the clique

Bitch Mob with Triple 6, Triple 7 comin' through

Hidin' in the fuckin' van we smokin' like a tea kettle

Hoppin' out the space shuttle, ridin' in the hover whip

Gold ass white bitch, artsy ass black bitch

Psychedelic trap shit, shootin' camera shots

Black Kray got extended clips

[Chorus]

(Psychedelic trap shit, shootin' camera shots

Black Kray got extended clips, uh)

Psychedelic trap shit, shootin' camera shots

Black Kray got extended clips

(Psychedelic trap shit, shootin' camera shots

Black Kray got extended clips, uh)

[Verse 2]

Had to slow it down one time for the bitch

Slow it down 2 times for the hoes with the wrist game

Sold through the back, switch lanes, ain't shit change

But the girl lick on my dick, mane

Skate around town, schemin' on these dumb hoes

Looking slick up in my clothes

([?] Juve [?])

Niggas used to call me Oreo

Jeans still tight, rockin' twin golds

Page 20 [?] for the camera shoots

With his coke, bitch