Y.N.A.F. - ALLBLACK, Rexx Life Raj, Cash Kidd

Well well well well

If it isn’t mister fool’s gold, mister gold plated

DTB on the beat, that’s bro

Doin' eighty down Labray and Lightyear

FaceTime with Guapdad 4K, showin' off my cleats

So fuckin' high, can’t close my eyes, and I can’t even think

I feel like Future when he made Harley and ate that bean

Rap niggas want the fame, that’s a goddamn shame

Kill ape jacket, mini-jeans and a Highline chain

Play 2K, fuck weak bitches, and brush them waves

That princess cut jesus piece on got him thinkin' he safe

That ain’t eczema, that’s a chain that gave you a rash

Your partner’s shit real but I bet he ain’t got no cash

Niggas gon' fake it to they grave just to get that ass

Jail ass niggas always talkin' 'bout what they had

I can’t believe you took a pic with that lil ass bag

Don’t even know you but that shit really made me mad

Pimp this, pimp that, but you out here trickin'

Take out the trash 'fore Ma Dukes give your ass the whippin'

Niggas ain’t never spent two months worth of rent at the Saks

I watched Lil Tyrone cop a house to the neck off packs

Foothill lookin' like a dyke club with all them straps

Put your gun down like Craig, that’s it and get whacked

All that Mayweather Ali hand throwin' is old

Put a price on my head, bet it won’t get sold

Dip your chain in some water, prove it’s real gold

Go ask them gangsters in your hood if I ever got hoed

Go ask the coldest pimp you know if I really stand toes

Let’s play a game called show me, whip out your cheese

Niggas got chargers, wallets, lint, more lint

Carmex, fourteen dollars, and a dream in them broke ass jeans

Look around at what I built, they know I’m all about it

Might flip pack on DL but never talk about it

The only one that know it’s me, I ain’t told no one else

You all for the 'Gram 'til you go down, you done told on yourself

Top floor all Caucasian, I’m the hype though

My daddy was a Panther, give a fuck about these white folks

Black and beautiful, I’m the owner, that’s unusual

I could’ve hired your mama, had that bitch all in the cubicle

They throw money at me 'cause my talent indisputable

Luckily I’m musical but still got pharmacueticals, uh-huh

Lookin' at you niggas, you a boy band, why

'Cause you be on the gram with your boy bands

Backstreet ass niggas, in sync with that fraud shit

I run big play, I get burned like a wall sit

One funny move, have my young niggas called up

Run through your crib then get dipped like it’s salsa, uh-huh

Thank you, very much, yeah

BLACK, what’s the deal my baby?

Hey, outcall for five hundred, let her keep two

Spent your motherfuckin' rent on a jump shoe

Makin' plays, avoiding 12, I’m tryna be smooth

Police tryna catch me with that ratchet like the green room

Skrrt skrrt, actin' bad, forty in my hand

Pull up and whack niggas like Jody and his mans

White twenty-ball on me, courtesy of scams

Gotta keep that Tommy close, Martin, Gina, Pam

Couple people rooted for me 'til I took off, huh

Some ain’t start rooting 'til I took off

Riding with that big motherfucker like I’m Rudolph

Y’all niggas lame as hell and y’all look soft

Ass full of stretch marks and it’s soft as hell

Soon as I bust this nut, bitch go talk to Mel

Care package on his head, get him offed in jail

Nigga I ball like I lost my scales

Real niggas with me, it’s hereditary

Five-six-seven-four, bitch we legendary

Out here in the field like the secondary

You ain’t got no thirty on you like February

Flashing guns all on Insta, I’m still not convinced

Crib full of dog food like I’m Michael Vick

I won’t take the trash out if I ain’t got the stick

If police use my raps in court then I’m out this bitch