text: I gotta feed the streets, my pistol gon bleed the streets
  Ski mask on my face, sometimes you got to cheat
  To stay ahead in this bitch-ard , drank syrup like its liquor
  Street lifell have you catchin up to God quicker 
  Sticker, AK-40 to your liver
  Let the chopper bang on you like a Blood or a Cripper 
  Flipper, so much bread, Im a gymnast
  Made so much money off of dummies, off of dummies 
  Im mister body catcher, Slaughter Gang soul snatcher
  Aint no regular F-150, this a fuckin Raptor
  No capper, street nigga, not a rapper
  Chopper hit him and he turned into a booty clapper
  Smith & Wesson, Im 4L Gang reppin
  We done baptized morе niggas than the damn reverеnd 
  Kappa Alpha, me and my gang, we do all the steppin
  Who you checkin? This FN shoot East to West End 
  Yeah
  I heard Papi outside
  And he got the double-R droppy outside
  Checked the weather and its gettin real oppy outside
  Ima drop this shit and have these pussies droppin like some motherfuckin—
  Type of nigga that cant look me in the eyes
  I despise
  When I see you, better put that fuckin pride to the side
  Many times, plenty times, I survived
  Beef is live, spoiler alert, this nigga dies
  Keep blickies, and you know the weed sticky
  My finger itchy, the Glock like to leave hickeys
  Your shooters iffy, a street punk could never diss me
  I come straight up out the 6, and we dont spare sissies
  I fuck with her, and fuck with her, and her
  I hit up err and tell him do the err, for sure
  Voodoo curse, it got him while I flew to Turks
  Know the dogs had to hit them where we knew it hurts
  Gang shit, thats all Im on 
  Gang shit, thats all Im on
  Nigga, gang shit, thats all Im on
  Gang shit, thats all Im on
  Nigga, gang shit, thats all Im on
  Gang shit, thats all Im on
  Nigga, gang shit, thats all Im on
  Gang shit, thats all Im on
  Let it bang, bang, let it bang, bang
  Til his brains hang and his mama sang
  And the pastor sang and them bullets sang
  And them choppers sang and the choir sang
  Im on everything
  Jacob charged me four-fifty for a tennis chain
  US Open, had it on us at the tennis game
  Tell the coach dont take me out, I like to finish games
  And my pen insane, and my men insane
  Theres like eighty of us now, thats the scary thing
  Shit they doin on that other side embarrassing
  We in Paris with it, hundred carats with it
  All this shit is for my son, cause hes inheritin it
  If Young Metro dont trust you Im gon shoot you
  Gang
  Metro
  Gang shit, thats all Im on
  Gang shit, thats all Im on
  Nigga, gang shit, thats all Im on
  Gang shit, thats all Im on
  Nigga, gang shit, thats all Im on
  Gang shit, thats all Im on
  Nigga, gang shit, thats all Im on
  Gang shit, thats all Im on, yeah