[Chorus: Yhung T.O.]
I've been running up a bag, counting racks out
We illegal up in Vegas, sending packs out
Glock 30 with a stick, for the back down
Glock in her purse, case the club with the pat down
It ain't hard to hear your n***a in the background
Lil n***a ain't no nines in this Mac rounds
Backshots make her tap out
Let him reach for these chains, he get packed out

[Verse 1: Philthy Rich]
Rich as fuck, but still never switching up
Make sure it's about money, when you mention us
Lil n***a sliding on a dummy mission
Engine light on in the transmission
Moms found my stash, a couple bands missing
Fell out with some n***as, I felt back and gave them distance
No culinary arts, but I was in the kitchen
Bitch, I'm in the Guinness book for cooking the most chickens
It's filthy

[Verse 2: Slimmy B]
I'm a motherfucking savage
Gucci for the shoes, Monclair for the jacket
N***as want a verse, there's a fee, bitch, I'm taxing
40 flip a n***a like a pissed on mattress
For any of my n***a turn to a snake I can't imagine
I'm stacking, can't see you broke n***as like I'm dabbin
No time for a ratchet, need a bitch on her bag shit
Acting, slide on your block and wreak havoc
Bitch
[Chorus: Yhung T.O.]
I've been running up a bag, counting racks out
We illegal up in Vegas, sending packs out
Glock 30 with a stick, for the back down
Glock in her purse, case the club with the pat down
It ain't hard to hear your n***a in the background
Lil n***a ain't no nines in this Mac rounds
Backshots make her tap out
Let him reach for these chains, he get packed out

[Verse 3: Dolla Dame]
This one for the gang, gang n***as only
And I can't call you brodie, unless you shoot for me
Whole lotta blue strips, I've been checking chicken
20 large stuffed inside my denim, you see how I'm living
I ran it up, me and my brodie, hoe, don't ask for shit
You wasn't with me shooting in the gym, I couldn't afford a zip
Now it's designer shit I be in, all the fly shit
The bust down Rollie, I can't even tell what time it is
N***a

[Verse 4: DaBoii]
I stand out with these bands, you just stand tall
I'm in a rush to them bands, I can't stand tall
Big sticks on the Glocks, we ain't playing golf
Hit a lick, never panic, bitch, we play it off
He ain't putting in no work, then we lay him off
Bitch, your n***a taking orders, 'cause he ain't a boss
I fall down, I get up, bitch, I shake it off
And if I don't got that strap, then I'm taking off
[Chorus: Yhung T.O.]
I've been running up a bag, counting racks out
We illegal up in Vegas, sending packs out
Glock 30 with a stick, for the back down
Glock in her purse, case the club with the pat down
It ain't hard to hear your n***a in the background
Lil n***a ain't no nines in this Mac rounds
Backshots make her tap out
Let him reach for these chains, he get packed out

[Verse 5: Lul G]
Big 40 get to bussing, pussy n***a, I don't thump
Ten chains on my neck, VVS, I don't tuck
Blue hunnids in these denims, young n***a, I don't tuck
Hundred rounds in the chop, making pussy n***as run
But brodie by my side, and he stay with that Mac
Let a pussy disrespect, then a pussy on his back
Young wild n***a, so I gotta keep a strap
Shit get real in the field, so it's 50 in the Mac

[Verse 6 ?]
Money coming fast, the more n***as get to hating
Then they see the diamonds, broke n***as get to playing
Shit by my side, lil n***a tryna [?]
Tryna reach for my chain, stupid boy, still lame
Look in my face, and tell me no lies
Can't touch the new n***a, who're a bitch on the side
Now I'm sitting in the [?] in a new 25
Stupid ass young n***as, I ain't even touched a 5
Bitch
[Chorus: Yhung T.O.]
I've been running up a bag, counting racks out
We illegal up in Vegas, sending packs out
Glock 30 with a stick, for the back down
Glock in her purse, case the club with the pat down
It ain't hard to hear your n***a in the background
Lil n***a ain't no nines in this Mac rounds
Backshots make her tap out
Let him reach for these chains, he get packed out