Hide From Who

Original

I'm high as fuck, literally on the twentieth floor.

You niggas trollin' on the Gram, y'all really just bored.

And I'm buyin' all the pistols, I need me some more. Ask them niggas, yeah, they know we don't even score.

Walked down, was a head taps, then we leavin' they store.

He was breathin' for a second, ain't breathin' no more. Put this glizzy to his top, bet he hittin' the floor.

Think I seen the opp bust a bitch, yeah, this one for sure. Ayy, get up on him. I'm tryna do it right.

Bro had some Tris, what the fuck? He dropped it in the Sprite.

Free my thugs, when they call, you know I'm sendin' kites.

Baby good, Coke bottle shape, her booty nice.

I'm like, "Can I feel on it? " We gon' pull up to that drop and just sit on it. Just me and

Buzz to the neck, fuck a big homie. We'll get on him.

I'm in Neiman's with a light bag, ten on me. Told baby I don't like fags, I'll spit on you.

And if you really like that, then come and spin on us. At least a block or two.

Don't be mad or tell the cops when I pop at you.

Grab your cleats, we hoppin' in the field, wear your soccer shoes. This nickel puttin' shit to sleep like them boxers do. Cutty ain't

Triple Cross, he pullin' an imposter move.

Triple Cross family, nigga. Fuck wrong with him?

Ayy, the fuck wrong with dude? I'm a player, make the bitch get down, tie my shoe. And

I ain't buyin' for a reason, them pints was fool.

Hey, I keep blicky, nigga, hidin' from who? Hey, temp check, who inside of that room?

I ain't ridin' with a nigga who not finna shoot. In a Striker with no plates and I'm actin' a fool.