[Intro]
Wavy Tre the shooter, your bitch favorite producer
Wavy Tre the shooter, your bitch favorite producer

[Verse]
Aye stupid asking bout me, been Cripping since like a snotty nose
Always been a C ain't no B’s, ain't make no honor rolls
Five hundred for your fit, I spent five hundred just for all my toes
Niggas talking wet, on the set, a body on the pole
If your bitch look then she took, bitch I'm feeling handsome
I got a pole up in this party bitch I don’t do the dancing
Aye bitch we thug it for real, he thuggin' for the cameras
Aye a nigga feeling like he ball, I turn him into Casper
Bitch I'm locked in with real locs, you just locked up
You is not no P, you got that lil hoe just knocked up
A hundred in the choppa and it's gon' light your whole block up
Caressin' a bitch and she gon' give your whole drop up
Aye, Roy passing them bullets, I call him Drew Brees
Draco got that kickback, I'm calling that bitch Bruce Lee
I treat the bitch like Pluto, she thinking that I’m a Goofy
Hella clips up in this chamber, fuck around and shoot a movie
Aye bitch, can of paint, we tryna spray shit
Niggas tryna kill me, oh well, we on that same shit
Hella crips with me, ride around on that gang shit
I’m in a foreign thang, tinted windows when I lane switch
I'm in a spaceship, hit your whip up it got your face hit
Big dick inside this pistol lil nigga, but ain’t no gay shit
Please don't say shit when you sit in that interrogation
Always been up in these streets like I'm stuck up in the pavement
Feel like an artist, the way this pistol loves to paint shit
Feel like the Matrix, niggas missing they ain't even scrape shit
You on that lame shit, bullets wet you up on that rain shit
We do a skit, then switch whips, that GTA shit
Aye hop in the stu and I get payed for it
Niggas disrespecting your gang, still ain’t get sprayed for it
My bro up in that jam fighting ten, keep your head up
Disrespecting our land, then you damned, we wet your checks up
Get your checks up, at Saks Fifth fucking a check up
Bro got that white girl, lil nigga he selling Kesha
You got me messed up, you really thinking that you next up
Bullets to his body now his tea covered in ketchup
Aye I can't trust niggas 'cause they too fake
Fully do the kicking, and I call that bitch Liu Kang
You chasing a bag, bitch I'm chasing me a suitcase
This forty make your heart beat off like it's Blueface
Nigga