text: We got it, mhm, we got it, mhm, we got it
  Kells, yeah
  I know you motherfucker better have the cash for us
  Rack it up, cause I know you the one I see the mask and gloves
  Put the green in the middle like you packing a blunt
  And let me get a brown bag like you packing a lunch
  My steelo is to repo with the street soft
  For making me play the game when I had a cheat code
  Black pea coat, fo-cinco, for amigos
  Outside your muthafucking peephole what up
  Black flag, with 3 letters that I’d die for
  And 3 more for the rivals, R.I.P
  Add them all together bye-bye ho
  Six feet deep with the fossils
  Now I ain’t never killed nothing but a beat
  But if it comes down to it, shit I gotta eat
  And they say scared money don’t make no money
  And it’s true, what the fuck you think it’s gonna be
  Lay down!
  Mommy should have never doubt, daddy should have took the liquor off the fucking couch
  Maybe then I wouldn’t be in the position, saying assume the position, while I’m searching for a fucking ounce
  Now where it at?
  They told me that the black safe in the last place where I will be looking
  So you better quit the rat race, they tell you that rap pays
  I begging for half-eighths while these label executives eating crab cakes, hold on
  These faggots eating, while my people starve
  Well I’m tired of hustling, think it’s time to rob
  Same old shit, we ain’t getting paid
  Well I’m in this industry, like fuck em, what we say?
  Don’t make this 40 go blow, go blow
  Put that money in my pocket, right now, right now
  Fuck em all, y’all foul, y’all foul
  Make these pussy motherfuckers lay it down, lay it down, ah
  Don’t make this 40 go blow, go blow
  Put that money in my pocket, right now, right now
  Fuck em all, y’all foul, y’all foul
  Make these pussy motherfuckers lay it down, lay it down, ah