hi hater

hi hater

hi hater

yeah

man

i gotta get fly

yeah

man

i gotta get fly as the open sky

i be vibing in the smoke

got potent in the dope

ride

i got a squad never trip just so hot

tales of me riding in the oi

can't even explain

how to reign

it's a cold game

cries to my pops

b-rock with a gold chain

eat big

fuck a piece

want the whole thang

that was what was taught by my old mane

i admit

i'm a dog for the greenbacks

rottweiler

self-made man

never need me a co-pilot

levitate

but these cats so violent

hold heat

so my homies with the gold teeth

past year

i got schooled

bussed some ogs

told me not to be so flamboyant

sitting lowkey

checkmate

still everybody know me

hateful in the springs to the bokey

tell 'em all the same thang

hi hater

never gon' touch my paper

i'm on my grind

why you worried 'bout mine?

tell me why the fuck you worried 'bout mine

if you watching: yeah

hi hater

never gon' touch my paper

i'm on my grind

why you worried 'bout mine?

tell me why the fuck you worried 'bout mine

look

the grind getting real serious

all the psychedelic stars making me delirious

the rap game is not hearing this

not at all

radio is giving me a headache

need a tylenol

now i'm back

hard hittin' like i was a powder pack

these cats leave a bad taste from the sour patch

just read about it

tell 'em

don't talk