[Verse 1: Styles P]
Keep it real G, any hoody bean
Sheek, pop the shit off, cause it's hoody season
Bitches get it, too; light niggas, too
R and B niggas actin' tough, I'll smack you on cue
Got your killer on your team, I got my ratchet on, too
'Lotta old school niggas, that been actin' brand new
'Lotta brand new niggas, that been actin' all old
Drinkin' Rozay, nigga, but you're sweeter than the rose
A fresh cut's, pinker than your rose gold
Sniffin' coke; talkin' 'bout you got a nose cold
Your whole crew is swallowing them E pills
Fuck that, see the homie for the refill
These rap niggas gettin' sodomized
Never was a G, if it's a snitch that you idolize
I don't even bum with them niggas; I don't try to vibe
I got the dough, for the show, then I'm tryin' to slide
The Ghost stay loyal to the clique
Want the whole crew to shine, like the foil on the brick
Fuck the industry, cause I'm royal on the strips, in the jailhouse
Saluted by niggas who took the real route
You don't wanna start, and have a body part mailed out
Or mailed in, right where your fam stay
Fuck child's play; I'm only into man's play
I'm the one that let the gun, in my hand spray..