Fetty

Brrr, Brrr, ah, ah

I'm a real son of a bitch
My little homies handle the route
With the cash from the music, I buy powerful kilos
Flow Chapo, if the rats catch me, I escape
Don't flex on me with your desires if you guys are just fronting

The 27 balloons and they steal all my 17
If I get pissed, I call to blast the AK-47
We move kilos of coke and kilos of crack
The junkies on the corner fighting over who sells more
In the blurry spot, I hit my target
With fake niggas and fakes, I don’t roll with them

With Pablito and Paty, we leave K behind
And at the airport with my girl, I look like Lil Baby
And from top to bottom, she's dressed in all Louis V
Bad bitch, all my real homies, none of them snitch

Rolling with bitches, counting the fetty
I'm gonna get rich, bitch, and I ain't leaving the crew
We got the R and the contraband
You know that 1.7 is controlling by law

In the tinted Mercedes, all designer Balmain
I got girls coming down from the U.S.A
And this is easy, my block's ready, we ain't in crisis no more
Dude, I don’t even need to flex, my neck's already frozen

I'm a real son of a bitch
My little homies handle the route
With the cash from the music, I buy powerful kilos
Flow Chapo, if the rats catch me, I escape
Don't flex on me with your desires if you guys are just fronting

I'm a real son of a bitch
My little homies handle the route
With the cash from the music, I buy powerful kilos
Flow Chapo, if the rats catch me, I escape
Don't flex on me with your desires if you guys are just fronting

Even if you were born again, you won't be like me
And if you want to kill me, come take down the whole convoy
People like how The Golden Boy raps
They love my whole vibe, the bitches know I'm the one
Even the junkies on the corner, my music sells like cocaine
Active twenty-four seven, we hit the kitchen
From the south to the north, and from the north to the south

You asked for my name if I sound in Pudahuel south
And everywhere, they want me, and the mafia loves me
Even with the fame, lying in bed
They want hoes, I don’t want drama, I want Hennessy, Buchanan’s
I want my millions to flex in high style

I want a pile of murders like Melly
The Dolce filled with blood and the car painted red
I choose the bitch I want, I take her, then I grab her
I showed them all the 30s and also all the motors
They say I'm a damn fool even if I walk with minors

I just sent for her, she was stealing the Ford Explorer
I like to shoot bullets, they don’t play with the dice no more
And they broke into your house and took your stuff
They raided your whole place and told me what happened
The neck's iced out in gold, what's up nigga? What's going on?