2000 Miles

[Intro: Loudpack Kap]
Nigga be in full go-mode like 24/8, you know?
We gon' get straight to that bag every time
Like don’t give a fuck

[Verse 1: Loudpack Kap]
Came from the bottom of the map, just drove two thousand miles
Nigga say it's smoke, we 'bout that smoke, but we don’t smoke no Milds
I'm just tryna get it, why you actin' crazy, talkin' wild?
Knowin' when I catch you lackin', Lord knows it's goin' down
Broad day or nighttime, this shit here worth a lifetime
These niggas talkin’ cray, they ain’t got nan' cool, then lay ’em down
Tell him pick his coins up, but I can't never drop no dime
Gun powder from the carbine, boy, I love to bust that iron
You say you gettin' money, I say you not, I guess somebody lyin'
Nigga say it’s drill time, we slidin', guess somebody dyin'
It sound like you readin' when you rap, you niggas barely rhymin'
You niggas rockin' cheap diamonds, them bitches barely shinin'

[Verse 2: The Real Drippy]
Okay, your bitch head was too good, I had to double back
Them niggas act like snakes, you know them birds don't fuck with that
I just walked inside the jeweler and I spent a couple racks
Now them diamonds in my face black like Kyla Pratt
I get Dior out of Neimans, I get Off-White out of Saks
I hit my bitch from the back, then wrote "Drippy" on her back (Ayy)
My crib so tall, I think I need an elevator
I remember bein' hungry, livin' off a generator
I just bought a .223, them niggas better not fuck with me
Okay, my diamonds black and yellow like a fuckin' bumblebee
Drippy Iverson, I just broke a bitch for thirty-three
She was thirty-three, I think I met her at the Doubletree

[Verse 3: 10.4 Chauncy]
Black hoodie, black ski mask, when we slide, we gotta keep them sticks inside the trash bag
SK and the M1 carbine come with the extended mag
Nigga know when we run down, we put that beam right on your ass
Young nigga right on your ass
Pop out like I'm Jason, it's 'bout to get ugly like Freddy Krueger
So watch your mouth before you niggas lose it
Bitch, I go dumb just like the Three Stooges
These niggas faker than these action movies
If you ask me, these niggas big clueless

[Outro: Sauce Walka]
Ooh-wee, ooh-wee
Yeah, man, you know what I'm talkin' 'bout, you lil' funky-ass bitch?
That's how we drippin' and splashin' down in the motherfuckin' South
Bunch of diamonds in our motherfuckin' mouth, you know what I'm talkin' 'bout?
From Texas to Florida in that motherfuckin' order, we right by the motherfuckin' water, you know what I'm talkin' 'bout?
From the bottom of Miami all to the way to back to California for a Grammy, you know what I'm talkin' 'bout?
On the beach where it's sandy with a bitch named Sandy, you under-splash me?
Yeah, man, know what I'm talkin' 'bout, all about these chips, though
All about, that drip, though, you know what I'm talkin' 'bout?
You fuckin' with Kap and we ain't talkin' 'bout nothin' that go on your head
We talkin' 'bout this motherfuckin' bread instead
Yeah, man, we out in motherfuckin' Miami with the real motherfuckin' Haitians with the real motherfuckin' gangsters
And we done came down to Texas to get real motherfuckin' reckless
Benz and Rolexes
Diamonds on the necklace
Drippy, drippy, drippy
You bitch-ass niggas can't get with me
It's TSF motherfuckin' business
We splashin' all around this motherfucker
Pussy-ass nigga
Now tell your bitch to get her motherfuckin' ho up
So you can get your dough up
So you can, punk ass can grow up, ooh-wee