text: Traphouse Mob
  Yoz, what you tellin me? 
  What you tellin me? Yeah
  I got Snacks to the right of me
  I got Mikey to the left of me, huh, wait
  Woo
  Look, look
  Ayy, what up?
  Hold on, what they talkin bout? Hey, what them folks talkin bout?
  Huh, look, huh
  Buddy gon grrt that, grrt that, brrt that, brrt that
  Send shots, make em get back
  All that chit-chat, chit-chat, riff-raff, riff-raff
  My niggas aint into that
  Nigga be talkin hot, but he aint on shit 
  I got like fifty rounds up in this clip
  If I go to jail, nigga, Ill plead the Fifth 
  Cause mommy still gon love her kid
  Niggas tryna lock me up and give me a bid, huh?
  Im like nigga, fuck the pigs
  The judge like, "Why you actin like a dick?"
  I said, "Im movin like Im Steven Vic"
  My lawyer like, "Poppy, why you brazen?"
  I said, "I pop a Perc and feel amazin"
  I shoot for the stars, Im a foundation, huh
  Look at the money Im raisin
  She wanna fuck, hold on
  She snuck in the book, have her wait for arraignment
  She get dick and edible arrangements
  Thats the only form of payment
  Shawty a snack
  And after I snack, Ima blow out her back
  She like, "Poppy, you so crazy," huh
  I told her, "Wine on me, baby" 
  She want a star
  She wanna fuck cause she know who we are
  These hoes be dirty, aint hittin em raw
  When it come to hoes, I got bitches galore 
  She wanna grip that, lick that, ask where the stick at
  Freak bitch put my dick where her lips at 
  She goin all gas, no chit-chat 
  She goin all gas, no chit-chat
  Ayy, bah-bah-ba-bum 
  Here come that boy with the drum 
  If I pull it out, then that boy gonna run 
  If he want the smoke, knock the beef out his bun, ayy
  I go dumb, dumb, dumb 
  Air it out, leave him slump-slump-slumped 
  Fuck what they say, they know that Im gucci
  Pull up with a pump-pump-pump