| I’m getting fucked up, I wanna die |
| But I can’t decide if it’s 'cause I already fucking died |
| Fuck the police, bitch, I know my fucking lines |
| Lines of gunpowder, cocaine in my bullets |
| Go pick a flower for a pretty bitch, I wouldn’t fucking do it |
| Smokin' on a tree, something you already knew |
| Since we askin' questions now |
| Known I don’t a-fucking-prove |
| Huffing glue, candlelight blue |
| I thought you knew |
| Pretty bitches with me 'cause I keep this shit one hunnid |
| Start to flexin' on these bitches, then I get to bustin' |
| Sippin' Robitussin with my motherfucking cousin |
| Got me fucked up, because I do it how they doesn’t |
| Two phone shawty with a bitch on both lines |
| Two hoes lonely, because I never got the time |
| White trash out the slime |
| Codeine soda with the lime on that Japanese time |
| When I’m smoking on the pine, bitch |