RIP VAN WINKLE

[Intro]
Yuh, yuh
We love you Nick
We love you Nick
Yuh, yuh
We love you Nick
I love you P3RCC
Aye, aye
Yuh, yuh

[Hook]
I’m hopping the gate, give a fuck bout a keycode
Take a fuck nigga chain, do his ass like Deebo
I’m juggin’ the plug, like, “You do not need those”
I pop me a perc, I’m lost like Nemo
Spanish lil shawty, she came with a deep throat
Put her mouth on the Glock, I’m gon’ hit you with cinco
He hide in his house, we shoot through the peep hole
He crying, he sayin’, “Perc it ain’t that deep bro”

[Verse 1]
What, what, fuck
I feel like John Wick, I’m clutching the Deagle
Shoot that boy in his head, my Glock be cerebral
I pull out the zip, make a fuck nigga tinkle
I put ‘em to bed, no RIP Van Winkle
Two twin Glocks, Roman and Niko
Said you gonna shoot, but you won’t hit me bro
Not talking ‘bout Gunna, I’m pushing the P bro
The Glock presidential, it’s for all the people
Like a Vietnam soldier, I stay in the tree bro
Shoot an opp in the chest, he gone, he dead
Not talking ‘bout Nick’, got a plug named Fred
He sellin’ them pints, he sellin’ that red
He sellin’ a brick, he sellin’ that coke
He sellin’ that— fuck, man fuck that shit

[Bridge]
How you whippin’, but don’t got a brick?
The Glock make ‘em run, that boy getting fit
He can’t outrun the bullet, so he still got hit
On the block catching plays, but don’t need no net
I’m out on the block, on my Willie Mays shit
Like a shredder, the Glock ripping shit
Like a PS4 party, the Glock got some kick
I’m double R, nigga, I feel really rich
She lovin’ on me, complimenting my kicks
I feel like a bird, getting fly and shit
Not talking ‘bout Ken, I get high and shit
I pull out my dick, she gon’ ride the shit
12 deep, I move on Joe Biden shit
The copy my swag, they bite the shit
Said you got a pack, better hide the shit

[Verse 2]
Uh, yeah, what the fuck
And my young nigga spinning
Not talking no fidgets, we spinning
You not in my rank, boy you kidding
And I’m out on the block, I got a white plug
That boy lookin’ like Cory, no Kenshin
And I’m sippin’ that wock, I’m sippin’ that mud
I’m sippin’ that dirty, not tris shi’
I swear on my gang I was down on my dick
I swear nobody would listen
I got a bag, got me some money
Now everybody see the vision
And Perc30 ball hard
I feel like I’m Chauncey Billups from the Pistons
I went up and got me some money, so why the fuck you in my bidness?