Lyrics:

Yung Leandoer, Sad Boys
Up in this bitch 'til infinity
'Kay
Salute to the gang, know where we hang
Bitches 'round the yard, they follow me like Pacman
Salute to the fans, sold my brain gland
Kit Kat lick on my hip, she got a chance
Shawty wanna bang, she look just like a fan
Snorting in the bathroom, paranoia, where's my mans
Salute to the gang, know where we hang
Girls around the yard, they follow me like Pacman
Got my cup dirty, like I never poured it up
Riding through the city with no ceiling, ain't no looking up
She just wanna tease it, I was leanin', they looking like us
Touched by the moment, feeling myself, I'ma cut you off
Stacks on wrist, graveyard wish
Opening my eyes like I ain't never lived
You know who I'm with, ten million hits
Put me on your song, I got killer instincts
Ice on slick, Rick Owens my bitch
Avenger in the night, I be cruising grand whips
Slayers, stacks like the mayor
Pager, she gon' hit me on my pager
Later, gon' get it now or later
All I want is to get rich, buy a house and some laser
Salute to the gang, know where we hang
Bitches 'round the yard, they follow me like Pacman
Salute to the fans, sold my brain gland
Kit Kat lick on my hip, she got a chance
Shawty wanna bang, she look just like a fan
Snorting in the bathroom, paranoia, where's my mans
Salute to the gang, know where we hang
Girls around the yard, they follow me like Pacman
I'm a guardian of the moon, white silver with tattoos
We gon' hotbox in the coupe, platonic mind, twilight, two moons
I don't give a fuck, I told you, Silver Surfer soldiers
Went to war, it's over, like my cash, my mind got older
I'm wearing my Timberlands, eating on marmalade
Living in vain, I put sparks in a starter brain
Hop out with ice, and I look like a target train
Icy blue veins keep it real, 'cause the market fake
Yeah, I'm on a mountain, I pour me a double seal
And I need medicine, pour me a benzopan
Warlord, but I'm not a cyborg, I'm almost real
Salute to the gang, we can get it
I know we will
I know some people that ain't rocking with me no more
Triple six, resist and pass out during shows for
Hard feelings start to grow when there's no more
No more
Salute to the gang, know where we hang
Bitches 'round the yard, they follow me like Pacman
Salute to the fans, sold my brain gland
Kit Kat lick on my hip, she got a chance
Shawty wanna bang, she look just like a fan
Snorting in the bathroom, paranoia, where's my mans
Salute to the gang, know where we hang
Girls around the yard, they follow me like Pacman