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[Intro| Colourfulmula]
Yo, yeah, what di bloodclat you a seh? (NamtnutS)
Eh? You wan’ ramp wid Mula? You wan’ ramp wid Turbo? Eh? (Sniag taeB)
You wan’ bomboclat war? You wan’ stunt wid di Stuntman?
These pussies want a bowflex fi knock, yuh see mi?
Yeah, they see mi
You know seh mi want a gyal to suck me like this (Beat Gang)
You know seh mi want a gyal to suck me off like oxtail bone, yuh see mi? Alright (Stuntman)
Mon ah man a badmon from long time
Mon ah man a badmon (namtnutS)
O-Block, mon ah man a badmon
Glory to the God (Sniag taeB)
Glory Boyz, Selassie I

[Chorus]
(Sosa baby) Runnin' up that sack (Yoom)
Smokin' on this dope (Dope), also known as pack (Let's get it)
And we got them GATs (Huh?), we won't cut no slack (Nah)
In these Fendi slacks (Fendi), I be speakin' facts (Catch up)
I'm all about a stack (Huh?), big ass blunts of thrax (Dope)
And that be the OG, just to be exact (Uh-huh)
She like how I flex (Bitch), so she want some sex (Bitch)
I don't wanna talk (Nah), she don't wanna text (Let's get it, catch up)

[Verse 1]
Please don't cross the gun line, gon' cost you your sunshine
And I got the D-line lookin' like a lunch line
And today is payday, so you know it's crunch time
Got my AR with me, that's my lil' sunshine
Pour that codeine up, it's 'bout that get drunk time
You gon catch your deer, I'ma go and hunt mine
Got the utensils bitch I got the supplies
Y'all my shorties so when you see me say, "What up, dad"
Ain't no puff, puff-pass, boy, I had a rough past
In the second grade, I had a BB in my lunch bag
You know the streets is some ties, get stuck like a thumb tack
Foe'nem took yo' choppa from you, come and get your drum back

[Chorus]
Runnin' up that sack (Yoom)
Smokin' on this dope (Dope), also known as pack (Let's get it)
And we got them GATs (Huh?), we won't cut no slack (Nah)
In these Fendi slacks (Fendi), I be speakin' facts (Catch up)
I'm all about a stack (Huh?), big ass blunts of thrax (Dope)
And that be the OG, just to be exact (Uh-huh)
She like how I flex (Bitch), so she want some sex (Bitch)
I don't wanna talk (Nah), she don't wanna text (Let's get it, catch up)

[Verse 2]
I'ma pour this pint up in some lemon lime
You can get yo' shit split, fuckin' wit' me and the guys
Mobbin' with some big shit, don't pay us no mind
Hit you wit' some big hits, won't take us no time
Your bitch want this big dick, she not even fine
Pockets be on be big, bitch, I'm not even lyin'
This shit is off the fuckin' dome, I'm not even tryin'
It ain't hard to get up wit' me, I'm not even hidin'
Boy, that old ass Benz, you not even slidin'
Hit yo' bitch from the back, she gon' let me have it
Bitch, I'm all about the dollars like I play with Dallas
Turn this shit malfunction, texting me could get tragedy (Bang)
This shit is crazy
I'm a 90s baby, I know nothin' bout the 80s
Hit you from the line, take a L, look like McGrady
We was really warrin', I looked up and God done saved me

[Chorus]
Runnin' up that sack (Yoom)
Smokin' on this dope (Dope), also known as pack (Let's get it)
And we got them GATs (Huh?), we won't cut no slack (Nah)
In these Fendi slacks (Fendi), I be speakin' facts (Catch up)
I'm all about a stack (Huh?), big ass blunts of thrax (Dope)
And that be the OG, just to be exact (Uh-huh)
She like how I flex (Bitch), so she want some sex (Bitch)
I don't wanna talk (Nah), she don't wanna text (Let's get it, catch up)