Mad

[Intro]
Dead sleep, hit my nigga he gon’ creep
No questions asked send the text, we gon’ link
Balenciaga mask and the tech got a beam
Sittin’ dorks on they ass, ain’t no threats come for me

[Tag]
(Ay that’s hard Zay)

[Verse 1]
We really from the streets, all my niggas bound to eat
And by all, I mean three, that won’t ever take a plea
If you want us, come with facts
Yeah we got straps, lil baby got it legally tucked in her bag
So if niggas want funk, I ain’t passin’ up on that that
Just reach in the Chanel and pick off a few rats
Slither to the trap and pick up a few bags
Then wiggle to the crib until I hear 12 pass

[Hook]
I know you niggas mad
I know you niggas mad
I know you niggas mad
But I ain’t goin’ back, y'all gon’ gеt over that
I know you niggas mad
I know you niggas mad
I know you niggas mad
But I ain’t goin’ back, y’all gon’ get over that

[Verse 2]
What’s thе answer? Tell me what’s the answer?
How I’m ‘posed to make it when the city full of cancer?
Tryna make a living off my style and my banter
But side-stepping phony niggas turned me to a dancer
Fresh up out the pound, got me questioning my dog life
All my niggas hounds, go to war about my dawg life
Always fitted, got my wrist drippin’, I got frostbite
Seen pretty women leave, she may have left but she walk right
Drama in my neighborhood, gotta go resolve it
Fake niggas talk the talk, so I gotta walk it
Started gettin’ paper, stopped caring what the cost is
That’s why I turned the Ralph Lauren store into my closet
Quit my day job, had to go and start bossin’
Fly shit only, I don’t know what Lacoste is
Gotta push the boundaries, ain’t no one gettin’ boxed in
They’ll turn your full house into a cell, Lori Loughlin

[Hook]

[Verse 3]
Lil baby looked down and the buckle five bands
Told her that ain’t shit, it was eight for the pants
But quit all that talkin’, it ain’t part of the plan
She gave me sucky face, I ain’t even wanna blam
I passed her to my mans, and peeped she a goer
Under one week I was able to hoe her
She ran me a check before I even got to know her
Shorty slipped up, said her brother was a grower
[?]
I need ten packs, I got the cash when you come over
We posted at the corner, nigga I don’t live here
But I’m pickin’ peers off for the bucks like John Deere
You live or eat, nigga I don’t even care
I’ll send your Mom some flowers and a card that’s sincere
I ain’t wanna kill her son, but it is what it is
I know you niggas mad