Sliding (Remix)

[Intro]
Mm (B Money bring that heat, boy)
Yeah
Buckzz, go

[Verse 1]
Different colored bills in my pocket like a rainbow (Cheese)
Fuck the opps, we puttin' targets on they heads like a halo (Yeah, yeah, yeah)
Buckzz a rapper now, can't see me in public, gotta lay low
And I just dropped a four up in a Creme Soda Faygo

[Chorus]
Entertainer for a minute, now he think I'm tryna fuck
They call me Mello, but you know the rest, bitch, I want the bucks
Skinny jeans on, but somehow I still got this glizzy tucked
Niggas snitchin' for a deal, man, you can't beat that shit with luck
You better duck when them bullеts flyin', we make slidin' rough
You bettеr hush on the internet, boy, your ass ain't tuff (Shh)
What you smokin' on? You ain't smokin' 'za, boy, that shit huff
Smokin' Posto out the pack, I get to chokin' when I puff
I said I'm back, steppin' on they necks, kill 'em with a track
Oh, she a opp? Yeah, I got you, gang, bullets in her tracks
I got the wheel, I'm in the front, but I got folks 'nem in the back
You better not lack, pull up in your hood, bullets in his cap (Boom, boom, boom, boom)

[Verse 2]
I got a problem, might get angry, I don't got a 60 in me
Alcoholic, you could fix the problem, just bring me some Rémy
Don't forget it still might be a problem if I got Junior with me
'Cause that boy just bought a Glock to match his motherfuckin' semi
Don't fuck with groupie hoes, like my bitches bad and boujee, pretty toes
Y'all see me though, wake up and get fresh like Buckzz be shittin' on
Took a different route, never rode a wave, instead I float the boat
Racks be stacked up, back up, bitch, you basic, I'm the fuckin' G.O.A.T
Throw a hook and catch a beat too easy like I'm fishin'
He fucked up your unemployment, bring it to me, I could fix it (Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah)
Bring my kid and bring your mouth, I get the top and then I'm dippin' (Ooh)
Beeski tell me it's a go, it's up, just like a dog, I sic 'em (What? What? What?)
You hoes embarrassin', always talkin' 'bout Buckzz, you hoes irrelevant (Yeah)
In that I8 smokin' Runtz up in my blunt, you in the Caravan (Mm)
Pour me a lil' four and get to flyin' like I'm Peter Pan (Yeah)
In the stu' makin' a hit up off the top, bitch, I don't need a pen
That shit on the floor with me, never had no ho in me
They gon' say I'm weak, but when I blow, they get to quotin' me
I stay in the newer shit, they know Buckzz been doin' this
Post a pic' up, they hop on my dick and get to chewin' it
Man, fuck your homie, who is him? They know Buckzz a ruthless bitch
Make his pockets empty, but that boy know I ain't choosin' him

[Chorus]
Entertainer for a minute, now he think I'm tryna fuck
They call me Mello, but you know the rest, bitch, I want the bucks
Skinny jeans on, but somehow I still got this glizzy tucked
Niggas snitchin' for a deal, man, you can't beat that shit with luck
You better duck when them bullets flyin', we make slidin' rough
You better hush on the internet, boy, your ass ain't tuff (Shh)
What you smokin' on? You ain't smokin' 'za, boy, that shit huff
Smokin' Posto out the pack, I get to chokin' when I puff
I said I'm back, steppin' on they necks, kill 'em with a track
Oh, she a opp? Yeah, I got you, gang, bullets in her tracks
I got the wheel, I'm in the front, but I got folks 'nem in the back
You better not lack, pull up in your hood, bullets in his cap (Boom, boom, boom, boom)