Lyrics:

Niggas like talk yo shit Gotti, these niggas don`t know what`s up
Nigga hating on you, you boutta tell em
It`s cool
This the money call right now

Look, old money, new niggas I don`t really feel `em
Copped that Lamb off the lot, I can`t wait to kill `em
New crib like the mall, can`t fill the closets
Back n forth to the bank, too many deposits
And that`s cool, rockin `em Robins and Giuseppes
Niggas ungrateful ain`t no more happy
Please quit axin me for them selfies (Urgh)
I don`t take pictures with niggas, (Can`t do that)
I take em picture with hoes
He got a bitch and she cheat on him wit bitches
Them my relationship goals
Old problems, new beef, shit may never end
If we ain`t broke bread, got no money, we ain`t friends
Quit callin me bruh, I ain`t yo brother, nigga we ain`t kin
(We ain`t brothas)
Blood thicker than water, nigga nah, shit thin
Whole label got me here honestly
I got em young gangstas under me
I got them niggas gon gun for me
I`m trynna get me a hunnid piece
On the cool I`m talkin like a hunnid mill
Multi-millionaire but I`m a hunnid still
Shotgun duplex with a hunnid thou
I can show you how a hunnid feel
I can show you how a hunnid click up
If you fuck up then you lose a twenny-five
Half a quarter for twenny five
Partna under twenty one and got a twenty-five (Ooooh)
Lawyer paid, buns, made niggas got a friend (Got a friend)
Got a bun, yo partna left in jail (That ain real)
Same nigga give you chopper tell you go kill (Yaaw niggas)
That what yo niggas call real then I guess I ain`t real
Industry fake and you know that shit
Niggas be hating over hoes n shit
Bitches fuck up cuz they slick n shit
You swear to God that yo know yo bitch (But do you really?)
But I know the bitch better, keep that a secret (But that`s coooool)
I can tell you sum shit about the bitch`s secrets (Oh really)
You buying the bitch baths [?] trying your best to keep her
But all she wanted was some lingerie Victoria Secrets
Why these niggas still killin, `bout thy penance, I don`t really get it
And I`m good wit to my niggas, millions, guess I`m still hustlin till the team win it
Super bowl, Championship, why these niggas still jumpin shit
Bury me with a hundred thou, pack of rubberbands and a thirty clip
Ay I`m boutta get hit with the RICO, you niggas go snitchin like Nino (You ain`t New York City till the feds came home)
Don`t jump in the water, you ain`t Nemo
(Don`t jump in the water with the sharks, boy)
All the hustla niggas that`s aloof