Young Rich Squad)
Aight, yeah
I think I be countin' bread too much
Yeah (Yeah) , look, haha

I think I be countin' bread too much
Bambo choppas make him double dutch, haha
I just got here, what the fuck is up? Yeah
Bitch, what's popping? Let's roll up a blunt, yeah
Niggas hatin', but just chase a bag
Represent the Puerto Rican flag, haha
Fuck your daughter, I make your shorty gag, ha
I hit Gucci, never check a tag
I love money, that's a fact, uh-huh, haha
She a baddie, make it clap, uh-huh, yeah
Bitch, I'm 'bout it, I don't act, uh, uh, yeah
Pistol make him heart attack, uh, uh
I've been rockin' Yves Saint Laurent, yeah
Can't pronounce it, always say it wrong, yeah
Call me Trap, I'm smokin' on some strong, yeah
Flip a pack, I got the birdies gone, huh, ayy
Bitch, I get them bands, uh
I get-, uh, uh, uh, uh, uh, uh
I count dividends, yeah, mm, yeah
You can't see my lands, uh
I see through the glass, uh
You see through the fence, uh, shit, uh
Niggas on defense
Why you so defensive? (Bitch)
But you just offensive (What?)
I just had to throw the Vvs' on my necklace
Ask the other opps, you pussy boys do not wanna test us, yeah

Bitch, Trap