Mr. Chow

[Intro]
(Damjonboi)

[Verse 1: G.T.]
Ayy, I was a young nigga servin' out the Days Inn
I'm like forty thousand in, it's like day ten
I had to sit and chill, get this shit in order
Runnin' through a half-slab, watchin' Law & Order
Fuck what niggas talkin', all that shit boring
That batch hit like blue magic, it's from 'cross the border
Bust it out the duct tape, let 'em taste it for us
Soon as they say it's grade A, we start takin' orders
Fuck all that bubblegum rap shit
Fuck with us, we can make that money do a backflip
The game fucked up, but we up here still sellin'
I'm 'bout to touch down, I turned around and start backpedalin'
Play dumb and you'll leave with a cracked mallet
Brand-new Forgiatos, thousand wires floatin' up the 7
You ain't no supplier, you just grabbin' a middleman
They say this shit gettin' hot, but we still gon' mail it
Jumpin' off the jet with 'bout a hundred in my backpack
The drop came with the pilot seats, I just lay back
You think this bitch just an old-school, but it beat 'Cats
A thousand horses, I just hit the pedal and this bitch scratch

[Chorus: G.T.]
Ayy, yeah, bitch
How could we ever be fucked up, for real, nigga? Think about it
Jumpin' in them big body whips when we leave the house
We used to bust 'scripts, take zips way up to the mountains
Fuck the whole club up and leave up out it
Everybody brung a strap with us, we don't need no bouncers
Be broke, nigga, what? How do you allow it?
Cipriani eight days straight, now I miss the trap

[Verse 2: Peezy]
How the fuck you niggas still broke? Man, that's crazy
I wasn't brought up like you niggas, I can't lie, you boys lazy
It ain't hard to get some pape', grab a skizzy and a wrap
Spin your wrist and make it lock, turn a split into an eighthy
Tell the kids to go outside, it's too much rizzy on the town
Racks runnin' through the counter, fiends smokin' in the basement
Don't no rats run in my family, only crackheads and gangsters
Had some workers turnt to bosses and some niggas that'll spank you
Give my coyo credits 'til the first, he said thank you
Free my cousin, he can't move, he got a tether on his ankle
How the fuck can we go broke? I'm just thinkin'
If rap fail, we can still go out of town and get paper, nigga (Real talk, facts)

[Chorus: G.T.]
Ayy, yeah, bitch
How could we ever be fucked up, for real, nigga? Think about it
Jumpin' in them big body whips when we leave the house
We used to bust 'scripts, take zips way up to the mountains
Fuck the whole club up and leave up out it
Everybody brung a strap with us, we don't need no bouncers
Be broke, nigga, what? How do you allow it?
Cipriani eight days straight, now I miss the trap