HMC - Woop, YG Ivy

Geek up on these niggas like I’m rollin' gangsta exotic

Geek up on these niggas, geek up on these, geek up on these

Holy moly choppa, I been playing with the rifle (3x)

Holy moly, tat-tat!

Holy moly, tat-tat!

The stripper booty cheeky you know lil Uzi clap niggas clap niggas

In a stick-up with some mouse cause you know we trap niggas (Where you going?)

Rock out Uzi, one nigga, two pistols

Young niggas, three pop, two cookers in the kitchen

Pull up on a fuck nigga, heard he want beef (Beef)

Too much sneak dissing, I’m just dissing on the sneak (Sneak)

Shoot him in the ear, bang bang, Dre Beats

Fuck 12, fuck county, fuck O.P.D.

(Fuck 'em)

Keys in my car but it’s a push start

I can pull up when it’s dark or even broad day, though

I own so much cars, my respect is a bar code

I’d rather thumb through a check and sit next to my rifle (No lies)

Pull up to your trap with three Thai hoes

Then I chop the brick like Tae Kwon Do (Kwon Do)

BItch I keep like them 9's like I’m Rondo!

Pull up in an unknown John Doe!

Kickin' with the choppa, I be

Choppa made in Japan, kick-kicking at your ass

Break the Swisher Sweet down and fill it up with swag (Good gas)

Red bottoms with pounds and MCM book bags

Ice on my shoes, no styling (No styling)

Paid that nigga fuck boy, fuck for the free (Fuck her for the free)

Trap booming hard, boy you can get a key

Trap booming hard, sell you 33 a piece

Word to my niggas, we the lords (We the lords)

Sharks in the trap house, snakes in the yard (Sss!)

I’m getting purple pounds in the slums

Fuck what he did, why he came and where he from

«Hello, you my friend.

I know you my friend.»

Claim you ain’t friendly but friendly as fuck

Choppa chop shop, I’m choppin' 'em up

Take a crack rock and cuttin' it up

Take a Gucci button down and button 'em up (Button it up)

No more fake friends, you fucking or what?

Black hearse wagon, you can’t meet the driver (you can’t meet the driver)

Holy moly choppa, running with the rifle