(8)
(Wheezy outta here, Wheezy outta here)

Sittin' behind five percent, you can see the chi-nain
Lil' one goin' crazy, ready to sprrt for the gi-nang
If it wasn't for Google, man, that bitch wouldn't know my nickname
Dropped a Maybach truck on a watch and it was plain jane
Let the door swang, swang the door open, smell cocaine
Traffickin' drug money and trap outta this one lane
Stepped all in mud, this bitch can't wait to tie my shoelace
Oh, she don't like girls, bet this money make a bitch so gay

Money real long, big as King Kong when you make the trap go jump
Yellow wrist stones, canary yellow stones, I'm puttin' on that stuff
Diggin' in her back, pull out my money, make a bitch bust a nut
Came out the bando just to buy diapers, had to hit me a lick
I bought the Tahoe from the trap money, haven't even seen a brick
Cocaine by the kilo, these days put it right on my wrist
You can still see the chain lit up sittin' behind five percent

Every time I re-up, they gotta advance at least twenty M
I been gettin' richer and richer my whole career
Took the dope money, went and record a mixtape, it's rappers way out
Sittin' on a bail totin' a big K, ain't even got a couch
To Australia, I'm familiar, spent two million on a jet
In that Dualie doin' the dash, I let lil' dawg he hold a TEC
I got mollies with the crystals but I been back doin' X
Got a Rolex on my wrist, this bitch cost 'bout a Corvette
Give these niggas a couple bands and hit your face and hit your chest
I was rollin' off the pills, I should've never fucked the bitch
I got hoes, these niggas married, I don't let 'em go, they come through
I got my fentanyl in my diamonds, I spend a nine on a pair of shoes
I don't even care who these niggas shot at, ain't nan' of 'em got merked
I got some real killers, they'll kill a nigga, then go and shoot up the hearse
You think a nigga like me give a fuck about a nigga shootin' up the church?
I gotta take this shit up with God 'cause I'm a god on the earth
I got this motherfuckin' new Benz, I ain't even drove it since it came out
Couple of bad bitches, they twins, walkin' naked through my house
Cook good dope up in the kitchen, I could do that top shelf
Bitches still claimin' me, I ain't fucked over yet

Cartier wrist, Cartier watch, Cartier diamond buff (what up?)
Money real long, big as King Kong when you make the trap go jump (jump)
Yellow wrist stones, canary yellow stones, I'm puttin' on that stuff (oh)
Diggin' in her back, pull out my money, make a bitch bust a nut
Came out the bando just to buy diapers, had to hit me a lick (yeah)
I bought the Tahoe from the trap money, haven't even seen a brick (ain't seen a brick)
Cocaine by the kilo, these days put it right on my wrist (woo)
You can still see the chain lit up sittin' behind five percent

Sittin' behind five percent, you can see the chi-nain
Lil' one goin' crazy, ready to sprrt for the gi-nang
Stepped all in mud, this bitch can't wait to tie my shoelace
Oh, she don't like girls, bet this money make a bitch so gay (bitch so gay) Writer/s: Bryan Lamar Simmons, Nayvadius Wilburn, Nicholas Berlinger, Stephen Gilarde, Wesley Tyler Glass
Publisher: Audiam, Inc., Payday Music Publishing, Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC, THE ADMINISTRATION MP INC, The Administration MP, Inc., THE MEZZO AGENCY, LLC, Universal Music Publishing Group
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