text: Trippin
  Wildin on television
  You could
  Still see a nigga tell the vision
  Pimpin 
  Boy, these boys, pimpin
  Different
  These boys, boys
  Pop was here last week
  He was talkin about Brooklyn and the place Brooklyn was at
  How they were really like, thrivin like right now
  He was, you know, he was tryna, pull people up with him
  He wasnt even into where he was about to be
  He just was trying to; he was trying to get there
  I mean, he was on his, he was well on his way
  Um, its just tragic, twenty yеars old, rest in peace
  God blеss Pop Smoke
  Look, nigga, we made it 
  Nigga, we made it, we made it 
  Nigga, we made it 
  Thank God that I made it 
  Nigga, we made it, we made it 
  Look, momma, I made it 
  Look, I remember the days, same fit for a week straight
  I used to eat fifty-cent cake, now, its Philippes
  Its Philippes for the steak and hella thots up in the Wraith
  I cant wife that thot, tell that bitch, "Get out of my face"
  We killed your big brother; we killed your little brother
  Now, its Philippes; its filets for the steak
  And hella thots up in the Wraith
  Said I hop in a Lamb and skrrt off, I spent fifty up in Bergdorf
  I got shit you never heard of, buy it, I dont care what it cost, no
  And I always keep a pole, rain, snow; I did a hundred on a pro
  If you droppin a woo, we come where you live
  Glock 9, infrared, pull up, and empty the clip, woo
  Dread had the strap all summer in the Floss movin reckless
  Please do not play wit me, nigga, I keep a K wit me
  Look, nigga, we made it 
  Nigga, we made it, we made it 
  Nigga, we made it 
  Thank God that I made it 
  Nigga, we made it, we made it 
  Look, momma, I made it 
  Nigga, we made it
  Huh?
  We come from the trenches, nigga
  Trap, trap, same fit for a week straight 
  You know what Im sayin?
  Fifty-cent cake, now, we eatin Philippes steak
  Look, Tyler got the album of the year, for now
  But Pop about to drop, I see the platinum in the clouds
  Now Push about to drop, so real trappers stick around
  The crown is only for the king, they tryna place it on a clown
  I declare war, nickname He Sell Raw
  Different city, same ghetto, bring the Woos on tour
  Push start, drop top, 812, two-door
  Baby Rover, Benz, coupe, bitch, you gotta choose yours
  How can I not? Woo, how can I not?
  When a brick is thirty-six, bitch, how could I stop?
  These Richard Milles are one-of-one, shit, how could I watch?
  We made it, we made it, whether you like it or not
  Look, nigga, we made it 
  Nigga, we made it, we made it 
  Nigga, we made it 
  Thank God that I made it 
  Nigga, we made it, we made it 
  Look, momma, I made it