[Intro: DJ Boss Player, C Dot Castro & Logic]
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Suicide my doors, fuckin all these hoes (Yo, they call me DJBossPlayer)
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All my chains, they glow, killin all these shows, yeah (The hottest DJ in College Park history)
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Suicide my doors, fuckin all these hoes (Right now, Im bringin you the chosen one out of Gaithersburg, Maryland)
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All my chains, they glow, killin all these shows, yeah (Eighteen projects over ten years)
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Suicide my doors, fuckin all these hoes (Were takin it back to the basement)
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All my chains, they glow, killin all these shows, yeah (Big Lenbo, C Dot Castro)
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Suicide my doors, fuckin all these hoes (The one and only 6ix and the motherfuckin GOAT)
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All my chains, they glow, killin all these shows, yeah (Logic, its 2011, yall! Yeah, uh)
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[Verse 1: Logic]
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Back to the beats, back to the streets, back with the heat
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Motherfucker dont rap indiscreet (Back to the— back to the—)
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Back to the beats, back to the streets, back with the heat
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Motherfucker dont rap indiscreet
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I pack heat, drop bars at U Street
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Float like a genie and Im droppin bars at Bohemian
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Bitches are here to be screamin, Bobby in the basement, dreamin
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Me and my homies, we schemin, tryna get a dollar, we fiendin, ah
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Im just tryna get it for the EBT, bitch, real niggas never switch
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I run the game like a Switch, used to bus tables just for the tips
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Now these bitches beggin me for the tip of my dick
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Watch out, I punch and roll over the kick
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I got more stories than Slick
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I got more stories than Rick
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Motherfucker, take your pick
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[Verse 2: C Dot Castro]
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Pick me out of that lineup
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Did the crime, yup, now my times up
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Got out the box and I got in my bag
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Now all of these bad bitches try and fuck
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‘Cause Im pullin up in the “what the fuck is that?”
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Comin from where Im from, gotta tuck the strap
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Knuck if you buck, if you bust, Im bustin back
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No one I trust enough, cause my love is tapped
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Say that she want it to last, good luck with that
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Bitch, I just want the racks, cant text you back
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‘Cause my thumbs are too numb, Ive been thumbin through cash
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You niggas is bums, you rummage through trash
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Throw a couple ones in your cup, then I dash
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Im one of one, but not the one that you wanna try to run up
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Run up and I get you done up
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When the summer come, you know Ima sun up
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Swear Ima son a son just for the come-up
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Need another lump, been fuckin these blunts up
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Looked at the gun just for fuckin my fun up
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Pumpin your gums, motherfucker, just shut up
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[Verse 3: Big Lenbo]
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Who fuckin with that? Im ready to bat
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All about peace, so I stay with a gat
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I stay strapped, but not for no money
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Im takin it back, no takin it from me
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You know its a fact, I stay with the honeys
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Up in that Impala, you wanna just holler
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I stay with the bread, I stay with the toast
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You motherfuckers out here doin the most
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We do it for real, you front for the post (Yeah)
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Yall niggas is gross
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[Verse 4: Fat Trel & ADÉ]
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Man, fuck all that other shit that nigga talkin bout (Talkin bout)
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Dont try to catch me and Vic, Ima chalk em out (Blaow)
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Beefin is beefin, it aint shit to talk about
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I want the smoke, you want the smoke (Smoke)
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I got a hundred-round drum in the chop
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And this shit get to rockin when I get the load (Brrt)
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I might just run up a hundred
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And book me a nigga and really pull up to his show (Go)
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You niggas must be mistaken
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The fuck is you takin, you thinkin bout robbin me? No (Bitch, no)
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Im with my youngins and we gettin money (Money)
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This shit really nothin, I got it, you want it (Phew)
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Its comin in bricks
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Smokin three-hundred to ship
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I got your house on my wrist (Phew)
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Im newly rich, so I might bounce in a minute (Minute)
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She call me “Babe” and Im in it (In it)
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I really get it, all of this money Im spendin
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I act like this shit aint no limit (Woah)
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Bitch, Im with the gang, Im rollin with gods (Gods)
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Just look in my eyes, you see that Im high (High)
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Im rollin with slime (Slime), you might see a .9 (.9)
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I really come put this fact shit on your mind
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The shit that Im drinkin three-hundred a line
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But you gotta suck it, you not even tryin (Mwah)
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Meet me in a second, Im pressin for time
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Hold up, shorty boy gon go die, bitch (Yeah, hm)
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[Verse 5: ADÉ]
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Who real as they come? (Who real as they come?)
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Been here a minute, but still isnt done
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The stable be killin shit, killin the rhyme
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Cant handle my business, my feelings are done
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Came out the mud, so the ceilin is none
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3-0-1 where Im from
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Make a wrong turn, get killed with the pump
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Young ADÉ, they know my name
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In 2011, had Phil in the front
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Now Im in back of the back, my hat to the back
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With your other half and some ‘yac
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She throwin it back like Manning, Im plannin on givin her back
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Now how you gon act? Do it too big, cant minimize that
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I live in iMacs, Im gettin my scratch
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Life is a bitch, make her sit in my lap, I finished my rap
