[Produced by Tommy Brown]
[Intro: T.I.]
Leggo
[Hook: Shad Da God & T.I]
Yeah, you know I’m ridin’ with that 6 (hol’ up!)
Come through in that Benz playin’ big (I say hol’ up!)
And we blow that gas, you can smell her (turn it)
Ain’t sh** chu could motherf**in’ tell us (turn it)
Man I heard a fake one talkin’ slick bout the kid (hol’ up!)
Tell the hoe we playin’ with the paper like a kid
Bankroll they neck, that’s the sh** they just throat
Hit the green lights, everybody on go (and you know it man)
Yeah, that’s the motherf**in’ kid, b**h
You know I got my city, b**h
I say, you could get your wig split
[Verse 1: Travi$ Scott]
Go on and let me dim the white light, burn the white candles
Get a white girl out her white dress, down to white sandals (ya dig?)
The only stars in astrology that’s making profits
Prophets on the rise, get like my city, we don’t need the comment
And all that blasé, blasé, all that nonce, nonce
My girl look like a Nicki Rihanna Minaj Grande Yonce
There he go on a Paddle School, you need better dude
I told her that ABC not ABC, no public school they want to steel
Push it back, push it back on some new sh**, I’m over night and lives with lacks on some cool sh**
When the sun go down we jump around we up and cheers done under days, the kid
Leggo
[?]