| Me and the mic, we hang out, like me and Lou do |
| You don’t let me let me and my crew through |
| You’ll basically take a walk in my shoes |
| I roll with mad |
| cuz we smash out crews, nigga |
| I keep the dro and Henny, raps I got plenty |
| I got the sauce, fuck an award cuz I don’t need any |
| I got the streets with me, that’s all a fella need |
| I’m out of town with Mad Dolla and we burning hella weed |
| Sitting on twenties, |
| I’d rather be up in this mix instead of chicks complaining |
| Rich man, Nike sign, Yankee fitted on |
| «6 minutes until you perform, Cheeks, lets get it on» |
| My shit bang, we get the money like Monopoly |
| You either roll or bounce, shit, nobody stopping me |
| I smoke 50 dollar blunts, mother fuck the |
| The nigga Cheeks now on the scene to give em what they need |
| Went to an Escalade, nigga, a drop-top, nigga |
| A real fly nigga, an iced-out nigga, with some real slum niggas |
| Some dirty gun niggas, some drug run niggas |
| Some «here we come» niggas |
| I got my pedicure bitches, my manicure bitches |
| My whip-pushing bitches, my no kiss bitches |
| My clothes-stealing bitches, my |
| peeling bitches |
| My |
| bitches, some more killing business |
| My cell’s ringing, hi, chick’s up on the other end |
| GNV, the best that’s ever done it, heard to Brother Blend |
| Shout out Jamaica, Queens |
| Niggas you can tell it from the way I get down and my getup |
| And you smell it |
| Chronic in the air, yeah, that nigga Cheeks burning |
| Blowing off them instrumentals on them techniques turning |
| Cologne smelling good, jewelry flashing |
| Pop them Os, make the Hennessey, we keep it ghetto fashion |
| Love my music bumping, love the running something |
| Love it, getting paid just to keep the party jumping |
| You know the situations, niggas, they be fronting hard |
| I steps all up into they sessions, it ain’t nothing, God |
| Hide behind they videos, niggas talking trash |
| When they see me and my team, them crowds be walking fast |
| Best to keep it moving cuz it’s official here |
| I got my niggas on the low but keep my pistol near |
| Whatchu, an empty-gun nigga? A real bum nigga? |
| A first to run nigga? So where you from, nigga? |
| We just stay here, nigga, we play here, nigga |
| Them AK niggas, so make way, nigga |
| Where my train-taking bitches? Money-making bitches? |
| Them no playing bitches? Them what you saying bitches? |
| My gun-toting bitches, my no joking bitches |
| My weed-smoking bitches for those stuck in bitches |
| I’m talking the late night creeps, the black and white jeeps |
| Cousin, pass the mic to me, I better hype the peeps |
| See niggas know me from way back when |
| LB, YG, Fox Fam, Top 10 |
| We doing bigger gigs, we buying bigger cribs |
| It’s the way us niggas live, acting like bigger kids |
| Wifey hold me down, plus she push the S-pound |
| I’m getting money from this game that I finesse, clown |
| All my niggas drink a lot, smoke a lot, fuck a lot |
| All my bitches drink a lot, smoke a lot, fuck a lot |