​​Believe It

[Intro]
(You know who TF made it)

[Chorus: Alois & Austin Skinner]
Yeah, yeah, I got ring-rings
Car got butterfly wings
I got hundreds
You know it's all on me
Say you love it
You love everything
Got a big chopper
Make that bitch sing
Yeah, where the fuck we goin'?
Leave that murder scene
We not goin' home
Hear them tires screech
We don't gotta tell 'em what the fuck we doin', we keep between you and me
We don't gotta tell 'em what the fuck we on, we really gon' makе 'em believе it (Go, go), uh-uh-uh

[Verse 1: Austin Skinner]
Okay, bae, go
Not finna play, we in that mode
Hit him with that stick, it's hot like stove
I'm in that freeway, I'm still rollin'
I go to L.A. on all my dope, yeah
I be rollin' 'til tomorrow, yeah
Stick pop out, put that shit in my coat
I'm on the K9, I'm on go
Countin' up bread like, "Holy toast"
I'm outside, this stick got tote
I'm tryna pop Percs with the Pope
I'm on they neck, that lil' boy choke
I'm booted up, bi'h, not a coat
Got some pop for this drop at the store
Sippin' on drank like I got a cold
I might go strike on that boy like I'm bowling
Got him leaking, looking like I'm a donor
Shot to the head, put that boy in a coma
I'm not fuckin' with these niggas, they phony
Count the cash up, only way that I know
[?] my racks out the [?]
If you not talkin' money then I'm gone

[Chorus: Alois]
Yeah, yeah, I got ring-rings
Car got butterfly wings
I got hundreds
You know it's all on me
Say you love it
You love everything
Got a big chopper
Make that bitch sing
Yeah, where the fuck we goin'?
Leave that murder scene
When I'm goin' home
Hear them tires screech
We don't gotta tell 'em what the fuck we doin', we keep between you and me
We don't gotta tell 'em what the fuck we on, we really gon' make 'em believe it

[Verse 2: BIGBABYGUCCI]
Ayy (Ayy), uh, make believe
She suck me up and I'm making her leave
Come patch him up 'cause I'm making him bleed
Lil' shawty keep calling, come take it for me
Uh, I'm on it
We got them bricks like a tunnel
I see that ho like a sponsor
He hate on my bag, he fumbled
Too many mags, we comin' to dump
We drivin' fast, I'm sorry [?]
Hey, you
We 'boutta trap out the roof
Hop out a big-body Coupe
I hit a hundred, not spillin' my juice
Diamonds be fightin' like they on Zeus
You is the topic if they want you