XX

I'm confused, got a lot going on, don’t know what range I drive.

Dudes walking around like my pulse, that guy ain't a plant, he just lies with that Cartier, it ain't a nail, it's a screw.

My haters are scared even on YouTube, my crew's got it under control, girls want a lot, I say no, they cry 'cause my dick's so sweet, even the bitches don’t charge me.

I sing a lot, feel like hitting myself, right? Alcohol on the wound, if you come at me, you’ll burn, it’s twenty fucking twenty, this shit’s gonna be ours, I’m at dinners with a fine, thick girl.

Here, very few have the hustle, I got money on my feet and cash where I stash it, but hold up, I’m gonna switch the kits, this is quick, Corleone already told you: everything here is an explanation,

Versace pants, sandals from the VIP zone, flex on my face and a Givenchy shirt, damn, I’m so fresh, when I walk by, I hear the DJ, you already know my name, I’m L fucking beat.