Meds

(Intro)
Yeah, yeah, ha, yeah
King Swisher Radio
Raccoonz

(Verse: 279tyler)
He was hating now he on his dead shit
I'm on my stay clear from the feds shit
[?] us Im a leave him red shit
Punk shit, on my whole lotta red shit
I'm with it, so you don't wanna test it
Opp wanna xan I'm finna press it
Press that bitch up with the fenty
Look up at my bag yeah that bag from Fendi
What I make up in a day?
What I make up in a day yeah thats your rent man
What I got up in my hand?
What I got up in my hand thats a bunch of dead man
He be snitching yeah
He be snitching yeah working for the feds man
I be selling all them xans
I be off of thе xan they call me the mеd man

(Verse 2: Nautika May)
We gone get the packs run it up as fast as we can
I know you can't understand cause you a little man
Pockets be so full when I step out do the money dance
Yeah, I dont need friends, and I'm rocking Vlone shoutout to my twin
Keep on talking shit then you just gone get hit again
Tryna run off with my bag gone get left in the wind
If you try and run that way they just might spray again, uh
And I got that big that bitch came and went
I ain't get her that and that bitch had a fit
Zaza give me wings now Im a Pegasus
Plug in with me if you tryna win and shit
Its just gang and me you need a membership, uh
If I get a mac I'll need a double clip
Your bitch gone bust it open do banana splits
If there's any obstacle I think I'll handle it
Get in the way and get [?]
[?]

(Verse 3: Dici)
Yeah, we gone slide, we gone fuck shit up
I just popped my last 30 I can't fuck shit now
Tyler grippin' on that .30 we gone fuck shit up
We gone fire down your block and we gone bow bow bow bow
Don't do that talking we can get into that quick, yeah
Call up Nautika, call up Tyler, they gone slide
Call up my lil guys, yeah yeah they gone ride
Put some money on your lil head yeah yeah you finna die
Swear you got money, swear you got racks, haha why you lie?
Light your block up yeah like the Fourth of July
Leave your white shirt red like some tie die
Put some wings on your ass you a fly guy, haha

(Verse 4: Glawkie)
There's not shit you can tell me, hoe
Ain't no shit you can tell me, yeah
I don't think that nigga ready, yeah
I can't make that bitch steady, yeah
Popping this shit like confetti, yeah
Yeah, popping this shit like confetti
I don't think that nigga ready, yeah
She is not ready, stick on my hip, yeah making them dance
I got a bitch and she [?] all on my [?] fly her to France