[Verse 1: Pressa & Houdini]

Gucci linen pattern match my kicks

She got them big ol' tits that match her hips

And my niggas batter up, you get pitched

She want love when Pressa need a brick

He tried to slide, unfortunate his hammer glitched

I'm makin' all this money, now I feel like Mitch

I couldn't care about a nigga or a bitch

I couldn't leave the trap, I'd miss a whole lotta nips

And all the features on my back and my wrist

Ordinary block boy, just a lil' bit from rich

Put that thirty in the Glock, now we walkin' wit' a stick

And trap house, it got bed bugs, Pressa, he got bit

Feels good I don't gotta see my lawyer

Still wit' the shits, you know I'm still tryna avoid her

I know they mad 'cause a nigga crossed the border

He been sittin' on that pack, called that kid a lil' hoarder

She called me a drug dealer, call me Richie Porter

Shooting no forward, ball like Jalen Poyser

Trap house borin' but we still placin' orders

Quarter-brick, half a brick, feel like a OJ (Ayy, ayy)

[Verse 2: Houdini]

Trap in my genetics

Them trips, I won't regret it

Real grains, no pellet

Free my fellow felons

Drop-top on Sunset, lil' bitch can't get in

Leavin' niggas upset, Valentino steppin'

Got two in my cup, with two grams in my blunt

Dare a nigga try some

Hot shit make him run

They ain't even up

Move like they be up

I can't trust a bitch

Or can't trust a slut

She up on the kid

She can't get enough

Like glue, move it, stuck

Got Wassas in the cut

Who say money don't buy love?

Shoutout the plug, still give me one

Don't make it feel like he put me on

I still got it on my own

[Verse 3: Pressa]

My opps ain't a problem

My shooters on parole

My niggas in jail cells

Bad bitches answer phones

That nigga on fire like stop, drop, and roll

You want a boatload but can't even drive a boat

Remind me of Red 5's, put 'em on the Redbox

Niggas pulled up on me, almost shot me by the greenbox

We was talkin', trappin', turn down when the stove hot

They was talkin', sit down and sit down like my grandpa

Sit down like my lola

That's against the law, lah

And I'm Filipino but I ain't goin' back home (Yuh)

Shooters, they gon' on ya'

Shooters, they all on ya'

And my grandma said "Don't trust niggas, they go cobra"

I'm that nigga they wanna know

Trap house with double phones

Used to get it in by the low

Bricks sell high in the low

If you really know what I mean

Trap house runnin' like Krispy Kreme

I'm a vampire, needa feed

He gon' vomit when he breathe

The opps, they gon' bleed and just bleed

Headshot on the scene

Yeah, he miskeen

Yeah, my waryas on debris