I know, I know what's real so keep it a thousand, ahh In the field, swervin' in that Audi Fuck your feelings, fuck whoever doubt it Told the plug ain't no need to count it I know, I know what's real, I know you in the field I know, you say you drill, I

Pull up swerving in a coupe Move them bricks to the bando like, ouu Diamond on my wrist and it look like glue Maison Margiela all over my shoe Walk in the club and I flex like ouu Walk in the club and I flex like, ouu Smokin' on loud pack, ouu

Turned to a whole different person, drive my whip Crash my whip off the drugs I'm swervin' Sticks and stones may break my bones But the drugs won't hurt me, the drugs won't hurt me Ex girlfriend keeps calling my phone But the bitch can't hurt me, so I'm

Pour me up a 4 and I'll feel like myself again Roll me up some dope and I'll feel like myself again Drivin' solo, I'm just swervin' through my ends I'mma break every box they try to put me in When I'm sober I just don't like who I am I got a lot of

Double C your purses, you deserve it But you're curvin' Curvy little body, love your surface (Surface) I like the way you keep up with your earnings Yeah, it's okay, 'cause you swervin' We got London On Da Track Got the AP covered, diamonds with

Laid back swervin' like I'm George Jones An ice cold beer sittin' in the console Memory lane up in the headlights Has got me reminiscing on the good times I'm turning off the real life, driving, that's right Smoke rollin' out the window Yeah I'm chilling

Yeah I'm chillin' on a dirt road. Laid back swervin' like I'm George Jones Smoke rollin' out the window An ice cold beer sittin' in the console. Memory Lane up in the headlights. Got me reminiscing on the good times Said I'm turnin' off the real life

Let's get cozy Get to know me, I ain't such a bad dude Swerving down the coast in my Got me drippin' like a nose bleed Love is adderall Don't need no codeine You got me floating

Who that nigga with the icy ass chain? (Who?) Gucci shirt, Gucci shoes, leather Balmains (Gucci) Who that, who that, swerving in a Huracan (skrrt, skrrt, skrrt, skrrt) Five in the morning, still whipping cocaine (cocaine) Who that nigga with the icy ass

Laid back swervin' like I'm George Jones An ice cold beer sittin' in the console Memory lane up in the headlights Has got me reminiscing on the good times I'm turning off the real life, driving, that's right Smoke rollin' out the window Yeah I'm chilling