Off-White Lumberjack lyrics

[Intro]
(Conductor)
You already snow that (227)
(Ahahaha)
It's Bo Jack (The living legend)
Let's get it (A legend in two sports)

[Verse 1]
To be or not to be, crime school, and I majored in philosophy (That's major)
Band proctor with drums, got a doctor's in criminology (Drum roll)
Razorin' the hard for that color money, Monopoly (Razor Ramon)
Gazin' at the stars in that Cullinan, that's astrology (Double-R)
D&G T-shirt, a hunnid stacks, Sara Lee, high velocity (A hunnid)
Flip the work with a money-back guarantee, that's the policy (No hassle)
Soccer mom full of parakeets (Get away), Cherokee obsolete (A relic)
All of this Valentino drip, I feel like Bobby V (Yeah)
Golf caddyin' with the pack, I'm on my Johnny P (On my bing)
Bro just copped a pill press, pressin' up them Chinese Vs (Press)
Ninety Gs in the sofa cushion came from overcookin' (Ayy)
All this dopе I'm pushin', f*ck your label, I should sign to fiends (f*ck it)
It's real Mafia, what еlse? Roll the credits behind the scenes (Roll it)
Whole lot of gang sh*t, big chains and diamond rings (Big gang)
Ebony and ivory, my n*ggas in the Ivy League (Ayy)
Smellin' like new money, Creed, Baccarat and Irish Tweed (New money)
Let's get it (No new n*ggas)
[Chorus]
My English broken and my plug don't speak no Inglés (Ayy)
He know I keep some motion like I'm sellin' dope on eBay (It's only us)
I run it up then run it back just like a replay (Run it)
Never been a runner-up, been runnin' laps, this sh*t a relay (Run it up)
My Creatures toastin' in the club with all the leeway (Ayy)
Been trappin' through the wire all my life, I feel like Wee-Bey (Boldy Blocks)
When I was callin' home from county on a three-way (Let's get it)
But now me and my Creatures pourin' Wocky on a PJ (227)
Let's get it (Mafia, what else?)

[Verse 2]
Went from the PJs to the PJ (Ayy)
Rockin' buffs, genuine horn, these ain't no Miches (No, not at all)
Spin them chirps like a turntable, go, DJ (Go, DJ)
It take money to make money, that's so cliché (Speedin' it up)
Totin' Glock, .357, stirrin' up a pot (Rrah, rrah)
No rebates on this sh*t I'm sellin', hurry up and buy (No rebates)
It's ConCreatures, 227, f*ck the FBI (Gang)
I'ma get this money off the fent' 'til the well run dry (It's Blocks)
Eight-hundred grams in the vent, tryna trail my driver (Eight-hunnid)
Made a mountain out a molehill, I'm the real the MacGyver (I'm that one guy)
Turn your block into roadkill, ambitions as a grinder (Ayy)
Hook, line, sinker, trap his keeper like a book binder (ConCreatures)
In the hood with the shottas, puffin' on the good ganja (Ayu)
Been f*cked up in the head ever since they took Tonya (My baby)
4700 block, spot doin' jumpin' jacks (Yeah)
Retro Mike & Ikes, off the Off-White lumberjack
Let's get it