Thigh Pads

[Intro]
(Wake up, F1LTHY)
Blap! Blap!
Yeah
50!
Everything 50 nigga
You know everything Global nigga
(Global!)
Yea
Rich Slime

[Chorus]
Totin that stick like a Taliban
I got shooters and you know they from Iran
I'm full up off drop, so you know I'm kickstand
I'm tied in, all my niggas they some made men
My niggas start sprayin niggas like they spray cans
We teardrop shit, I don't do no fades man
I know his ass ain't bout it, that's a phase man
I'm rockin LVs up on my face no Ray-Bans
I put his ass on a plate now he steak man
I'm so 7:30 bruh these niggas late man
I been a real nigga I'm seein through the fake man
I'm countin that plata you know his ass gon hate man
Aye
I'm in the trap wit them thigh pads
I don't see these niggas man I'm like a blind man
Got double-down straps on me and they compact
My shooters start spinnin all that shit like Chiraq
He still got popped it only cost me 5 racks
(Blat, blat, blat)

[Verse]
I see the shit on the screen just like IMAX
I'm full up off drugs you know I'm switching climates
These niggas gettin touched nigga like they iPads
That nigga got popped and he ain't even fye back
I'm shootin off rip so I don't gotta shoot back
I been gettin niggas toe-tagged
You ain't talkin bout plata then I ain't even for that
My notes is so thick man I can't even fold that
Yo bitch went missing but that hoe ain't kidnapped
Yeah
All my choppas they got kick-back
She don't do drop so why that hoe done relapsed?
My pockets on Fat Joe yea they got me leanin back
You know I stay slumped on the drugs like Ski Mask
I told that bitch chill out yeah I'm finna be back
He tried to play slick he thought I wasn't gon see that
Damn
Nigga got shot up on the real got shit-bagged
Banana clip on me like I'm Bin Laden
I feel like Flippa cuz you know I been having
I'm making them straight deposits yeah I been stashin
My bitches stay fly as fuck you know they in fashion
I'm strapped wit that judge ain't talkin bout no Mathis
My shooters slow as fuck yea they always crashin
Yea
Cold heart like assassin
I'm countin that money you know that shit my passion
Watch I'm bout to cross a nigga like it's backwards
You talkin bout gang then you know that (shit happened)
These niggas fake as fuck yeah I know they BAPPIN
Three straps on me how the fuck I'm lacking?
My bitch in that Benz she hoppin out the G-Wagon
Spittin fire like a dragon

[Chorus]
Totin that stick like a Taliban
I got shooters and you know they from Iran
I'm full up off drop, so you know I'm kickstand
I'm tied in, all my niggas they some made men
My niggas start sprayin niggas like they spray cans
We teardrop shit, I don't do no fades man
I know his ass ain't bout it, that's a phase man
I'm rockin LVs up on my face no Ray-Bans
I put his ass on a plate now he steak man
I'm so 7:30 bruh these niggas late man
I been a real nigga I'm seein through the fake man
I'm countin that plata you know his ass gon hate man
Aye
I'm in the trap wit them thigh pads
I don't see these niggas man I'm like a blind man
Got double-down straps on me and they compact
My shooters start spinnin all that shit like Chiraq
He still got popped it only cost me 5 racks
(Blat, blat, blat)