Damn, Dior AJ back on that bullshit, Slime Not my slime, we ridin' C-Figures I ain't artistic, but you get the picture One shot in your head, we leavin' you simple The life on the edge, it never the middle Give him an inch and they take it a mile Freedia Leroy, he took it to trial Under my numbers, boy, check it out You can throw it to your home, but get it down My Rollie, my twin, yeah, that my round We havin' hoes in Atlanta town Yeah, these shooters smokin' more than a pound Dropped a bag on that hoe, ain't got mark Busted up and I ain't stop my clock Good sight, 30 round on the Glock YSL choppa, gang, we locked These niggas capped, I ain't droppin' no Glock Shit, I already picked your demeanor Nobody say nothin', he look like a cup All in Atlanta in that Rolls And we havin' hoes suck, he ride out your socks Got a nigga down with that choppa And then we're off, whoo Why, if she not a slut, she not my type Stand in the dash, bought all the track, hoe It livin' up like a bike, got trap bands, gamblers And killers, rhyme me every day That lil' bitch excited, yeah, we slimy and shady And shitey, this thing get hit like it tight Now I'm out slime, we ridin', see figures I ain't artistic, but you get the picture One shot in your head, we leavin' you simple The life on the edge, it never the middle Give him an inch and they take it a mile Freedia Leroy, he took it to trial Under my numbers, boy, check it out And get dope to your home, boy, get it down My Rollie, my twin, yeah, that my round We havin' hoes in L.A. in the town Yeah, these shooters smokin' more than a pound Dropped a bag on that hoe, ain't got mop Busted up and I ain't stop, my clock Good sight, 30 round on the Glock Right side, drop that big Glock 19-6 with the cooler, switch on the Glock, get on fast I catch the curb in that wide Buy the cash and grab the grass Tap the gas, she shake, ayy, we trip Scat pack like a C-Class If I don't put a picture with money The bars won't see no cash Try the trap on the ass Every time we hit, they block some pass Pressure, but I have to tell you I'm tryna put some in the bag From 8 to 8, catch me smashin' No shaver, bae, don't try to match I pack in my hood, he my favorite Grand, he a class Now in my slime, we ridin' six figures Ain't artistic, but you get the picture One shot in your head, we livin' it simple Life on the edge, it never the middle Give him an inch and they take it a mile Boy, take it down, get dope to your home Boy, get it down, my Rollie, my twin Yeah, that my round, we havin' hoes in Atlanta town Yeah, these shooters smokin' more than a pound Dropped a bag on that hoe, ain't got mop Busted up and I ain't stop my clock Good sight, 30 round on the Glock YSL, chop a game, we lock