I grew up in the streets without no heart Young Savage, why you trappin' so hard? Why these niggas cappin' so hard? Why you got a twelve car garage? Why you pullin' all these rappers cards? 'Cause these niggas pussy and I'm hard I turn that fucking soft

1.5 (1.5), on the ride (On the ride) Niggas die (Niggas die), when we slide (When we slide) Draw the line (Draw the line), pick a side (Pick a side) Ain't no switchin' (Ain't no switchin'), on my guys (On the gang) My earrings cost a half a ticket, I

The math ahead It's moon water The math behind it The math behind Remomrize numb And half the hum For moon water I'd hide Berlin

Gun smoke (Gun smoke) Yeah (Gun smoke) Yeah, gun smoke (Gun smoke) Put my Glock down, that's a no-no (No-no) When I wear my suit, I tote my .44 (.44) Y'all ain't killin' shit, y'all niggas hoes-hoes (Hoes-hoes) Cryin' over pussy, you a broke joke (Broke

Get someone you love? Get someone you need? Fuck that, get money I can't give you my soul 'cause we're never alone I don't want your body But I hate to think about you with somebody else Our love has gone cold You're intertwining your soul with somebody

Goyard duffle, yeah yeah Got that Draco in it, yeah yeah Whip a chicken, yeah yeah Tryna break the pot, yeah yeah And I got that Glock, yeah yeah I got thirty shots, yeah yeah Got your baby mama, yeah yeah She bent over nigga, yeah yeah Young Savage

Always on a different route, I do the wrong things right! Alright now, we're going back in time! We'll rock this party 'til the walls come crashing down, so buy another 21 with no direction, living life to the fullest is my intention! We're gonna party

Ass and titties, ass and titties (Shake that) Ass and titties, he throw money, twenties (Bounce that) Shake that, ayy Ass and titties (Ayy), ass and titties (Shake that) Ass and titties (Ayy), come get savage with me Bounce that Bounce that, ayy Good job

One love, one love, one thug One nation, twenty-one gun salute I'm hoping my true motherfuckers know This be the realest shit I ever wrote Against all odds, up in the studio, getting blowed To the truest shit I ever spoke 21 gun salute, dressed in

In my bank account, yeah (oh God) Ready to gun you down, yeah (oh God) I got one, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight M's in my bank account, yeah (oh God) I got one, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight shooters ready to gun you down, yeah