Check, check, check, one, two
Now I just sound muffled like
Need a birdie, speak to us
Beefin' don't concern me,
Who wanna see me doin' dirty,
Grind grizzly and I wear mine
Nine milli' on your hairline
Ho, you got signed, I don't wanna hear it
I'll let this hot nine give you niggas
Yeah, I'm still up in the mix,
With the grip, sittin' on the head
Keep on thinkin' you the coldest,
Your whip ain't fully loaded
till I hit it with a clip
this about the sickest that it gets
I'm winnin', you should quit
I think that you should dip
Before I get you niggas tagged
I'm thinkin' you the sickest
It's over, it's over, it's over,
It's over, look those hit the road
Choke on the toaster, it's over
It's over, it's over, I told you
It's over, look those hit the road
Choke on the toaster, it's over
I'm A -Mafia, my flow is ill
Point one finger and all my soldiers kill
I'm hotter than the gleaming sun
We tryna let this cheddar pallet win
Rip tracks with precision
I'm going back in the kitchen
I'm scratching and inching
sell her a hundred pounds and stunt
all my bitches look like Esther Baxter
my flow hot like a fire in hell
I'm getting paid off of bundles
Bricks and a rover, venom
Aim at your head nigga, it's over
It's over, it's over, it's over, I told ya
It's a rowers and roasters,
It's over, look those hip
and roll with the soldiers
It's over, it's over, it's over, I told you
What a rowers and roasters,
look those hip and roll with the soldiers