Lyrics:

You the baddest I done seen in a while
Ooh, my shorty, oh, oh
Gettin' high, totin' that iron every time that we ride
And you know, you know
You the baddest thing I seen in a while
Ooh, my shorty, oh, she, oh

Oh, oh, oh, and she mine
I swear to buy her anything to ease her mind
In the dead end posted with that gang, totin' on that iron
And I'm bound to leave any nigga dead if they ain't mine
And I jumped off the porch like
Killed Dave when he was sixteen, I do the reaping
I say murder, Blood, and throw big B's
Hit the block and blow the curb up, Youngboy MJ, I got on six rings
Six headshots for the coroners, tell 'em that we ain't use no beam
Tell them fuck niggas they don't know me
I know for a fact she don't know her nigga, but she know me and she on me
Steady askin' like, 'Can you take me home?'
Tell somebody anything I want, yeah

H-O-L-D, huh, hold on me, yeah
D-I-E, I've been needin' some peace
Uh, uh, drink on lean 'til I can barely breathe
Bae, your head ain't workin', nah, I need fire to sleep
Louis V bag maybe buy a bracelet, fuck nigga tried chargin' me sixty G's

Twenty-five for the duffle bag
Nigga still countin' bands, baby, don't count on me
Maybach ain't come with curtains, without tint
Niggas still ain't seein' me
Real gas bags, that's all I chief
Two steps back, get off of me
I've been up, yeah, all cheese
I paid cash for that factory
Hitmen, they be after me
12 tryna capture me
Bitches plannin' on trappin' me
Fake rappers plannin' on blastin' me
For bro, you get assassin free
Get blicked up, you try hackin' me, yeah

H-O-L-D, huh, hold on me, yeah
D-I-E, I've been needin' some peace
Bae, your head ain't workin', nah, I need fire to sleep
Louis V bag maybe buy a bracelet, fuck nigga tried chargin' me sixty G's

You the baddest I done seen in a while
Ooh, my shorty, oh, oh
Gettin' high, totin' that iron every time that we ride
And you know, you know
You the baddest thing I seen in a while
Ooh, my shorty, oh, she, oh

Killed Dave when he was sixteen, I do the reaping
I say murder, Blood, and throw big B's
Hit the block and blow the curb up, Youngboy MJ, I got on six rings
Six headshots for the coroners, tell 'em that we ain't use no beam
(Eardrummers)
(Mike WiLL Made-It)
(That money go for Myles)