Fifty One

We gonna slow things down and go back in time Yeah, uh We gon' make niggas feel like this shit Yo Smoking grapes and went to war with a poker face Loaded eight, get the drop, then we unload your safe I used to pitch on my corner late Fifth on my bulging waist, way back in those flip Motorola days We street niggas in the race for millions I ate with dealers, I'm straight 'cause my face familiar I'm from a place where we trap and sell weight from buildings Trust me, this not a place you wanna raise your children Nah, we don't sell zips, the plug wholesale bricks And got the crib with more rooms than a motel six We roll L's thick with gas so that dope smell stick Heard they said it was they year, but that boat sailed quick Fuck riding in a nigga's coattails, shit What you know about facing that 5 to 40, but don't tell shit Oh well, it's the most real when the pro scale this Like old mist, stopping the Giants, I'm on my Odell shit You tryna see how many cops I can outrun Never been outgunned, but niggas still doubted the outcome Your favorite rap nigga about done And I'm still front line, I put a half in the pot and I pull out one These niggas talking gunplay, but they not about none Went down for a home invasion soon as the drought come Top of the line hustle, you not one of mine, fuck you I got this hunger from watching my mom struggle I been harder, legend that still'll shoot like Vince Carter I'm nasty, my flow dirtier than Flint water And being broke was a big problem so I whipped quarters Fell back, the trap bubbled up like dish water Collect all payment or I'm just gon' spray shit Put a bullet on your hat like Just Don snakeskin They said I'd be a loser and a failure, from where they usually'll jail you Benny the Butcher, shooter for Griselda, nigga Uh, shooter for Griselda, nigga I'm a shooter for Griselda, nigga From where they usually'll jail ya Benny the Butcher, shooter for Griselda Ah, yeah Got sticks with us, nah mean? (Doot, doot, doot, doot, doot, doot, doot, doot Doot, doot, doot, doot, doot, doot, doot, doot) Sticks got 50 in 'em (Doot, doot, doot, doot, doot, doot, doot, doot Doot, doot, doot, doot, doot, doot, doot, doot) We gotta beg, we gotta beg you little We gotta let this bitch off at you We own you, huh, yeah Ayo Ayo, you broke niggas still wearing Giuseppe kicks Twenty-five chains on, I'm on my heavy shit Face tats, my jumper with the KAWS 4's Dome shot up close, your shit gon' fall off We the dopest, and the greatest, you niggas know it My rhymes so wet, my mouth is Rolex I drop tears in my Moet The illest of all time, y'all just don't know yet Rocket launcher on the back porch, flip your whole jet Fuck niggas took pictures standing over Pablo Blood Diablo in the mud God is my bodyguard We wanted ten bricks, already hard Flashlight on the K like a nigga lost He grabbed the rope, almost broke the slab with the figure-four Ow