Back 2 Back lyrics

[Verse 1: Tay B & FMB DZ]
All facts lil' n*gga huh
Yea I heard you in that G wagon
Not the Benz one, b*tch the Ford one
You can't afford one
You ain't never made six G's
Huh, n*gga, my car don't even take CDs
You in fake Balmain's word to DZ's
You in fake diamonds word to CZ's
I ran it up and went ignant word to Tay B
Everything push to start b*tch I hate keys
Shoutout to that motherf*ckin' road cause It made me
I was taking trips to AZ, I was 18
Y'all be on Instagram posting fake cheese
Put that pistol in yo face, pus*y say cheese
I wear my sh*t anywhere come and take these
I just found a thousand pack for the 18
Tryna put my n*ggas in gold like the A-Team
And I'll pity any fool trying to take these

[Verse 2: Tay B & FMB DZ]
If you don't do what you 'posed to do
sh*t prolly end up stretching you
Probably gone f*ck and get the neck from you
Probably get the best of you
Then probably gone end up neglecting you
I 'ont really like to do the seconds boo
A hundred round drum, n*gga you can catch some extras too
Later when I'm done Imma pour a 4 up in a Mountain Dew
Boy you ain't my mans, don't shake my hands, 'iont f*ck with you
Took some n*ggas years to get this far, It took a month or two
I get in my feelings pop a perc or blow a blunt or two
RIP Uncle Mudd wish that I could sip a cup with you
When them boys caught you, I wish I was in the cut with you
I'd do what I'm supposed to do, can't let 'em get close to you
Yeaaah
[Verse 3: Tay B and FMB DZ]
Young boss n*gga I do boss sh*t
You ain't getting money you just talk sh*t huh
You don't wanna beef cause we chalk sh*t
We don't play hard cause we came up off soft sh*t huh
And you lost up in the sauce b*tch, I ain't get this from my mama b*tch I bought this
I ain't drive on that rode, b*tch I caught this huh
Randy Moss sh*t huh, get it off quick
I got that work and it ain't cheap
Really in that water, b*tch I be swimming in the deep
b*tch all in my face, she keep asking if I'm me
The b*tch thought I was lying so she asked to see my teeth
Got a new b*tch every week, that's yo b*tch we just creep
And the sh*t she'll never do for you she do for me
n*gga hop off my di*k might as well go and leap
And you shop from low to high, 'lil boy you hella cheap
And she wanna f*ck with me, told the b*tch say please na
Now hit yo knees, huh, These n*ggas paying 50 dollars for some fake lean
These n*ggas paying 50 dollars for some fake jeans
I had to get up off my ass I was tired of chilling
n*gga play with that bag, you must be tired of living
I'll slide with them sticks you know my position
n*gga can't tell me sh*t I make my own decisions
Walk in Silver Rain and throw a b*tch tuition
Brodie 41 plain, but it still glisten
Seen his b*tch around the gang, he got in his feelings
b*tch I made my own lane, I see no competition
That's just how I'm feeling