Hey, sad boys

I'm getting out of here

Hmm

I'm getting out of here

I'm gon be the one that makes it out

I'm getting out of here

Whoa

I'ma be the one that makes it out

I'm getting up out of here

If you run up, sticky tucked, little bitch

you gettin up out of here

I just poured me a eighth of wok

Little bitch, I'm in the atmosphere

Every day, Mary Jane, just to relax

I got this weird paranoia

like, bro, chill, relax

But I can't never relax

I need them motherfucker racks

Work too hard, I'ma go where I want to

I'ma get a Milly and a Ville, cause I want to

I'm a big dog

I'm a big stepper

I'm a big boss

That means I get money every day like I'm Rick Ross

That means I get money all the time I do not log off

And once I'm at the top Best believe I will never fall off

Get to the bag

Get to the paper

Dick In your bitch, she did me a favor

Fuck her once, and then I'll leave her

Hit her boyfriend with my heater

Bitch, I'm ignorant

I'm vicious

I got a pole up in my britches

I'd be damned

I get killed

Trusting any of these bitches

Hand on my pole

I can't let it go

No, no, no

Down to let it blow

Down to let it go

Yo, yo, yo

Choppa it like a needle

Little bitch, you get sewed

You get sewed

I'ma be the one that makes it out

I'm getting up out of here

If you run up, Sticky tucked, little bitch

you gettin up out of here

I just poured me eighth of Wok

Little bitch, I'm in the atmosphere

Every day, Mary Jane, just to relax

I got this weird paranoia

They like, bro, chill, relax

But I can never relax

I need them motherfucker Racks