Pop Warner lyrics

[Intro: Babyface Ray]
(Coach me, Joey)
Yeah (Yeah, you know what the f*ck goin' on, man)
(Okay, KMoney)
f*ck you mean? (Yeah)

[Verse 1: Babyface Ray]
Mix the X pill with the drank, f*ckin' b*tches, gettin' paid
Street n*gga center stage, made her sign an NDA
Rap hustlin' motherf*cker, hundred thousand in a day
I pull up, six in the mornin' and it's dinner made
Gucci'd down, it's to the socks, my advice is keep a Glock
Boy, you was a good kid, how the f*ck you did me now?
I got M's, turnin' down more M's, I didn't even lie
I might make the fed list if I bring my people out
Foreign pushin' back to back, we should go ten for ten
I'm tired of goin' rack for rack, you havin', wherе you got it at?
One night she say she likе my vibe, now this rat attached
I just bought some sh*t off Amazon, made it disappear
Pimpin' like I'm Bishop Don Juan, face like primetime
Groupie-ass n*ggas sideline, where your pom-pom?
You f*ck my b*tch, then I'ma f*ck your b*tch, them the guidelines
50 Cent on a n*gga top, hit him nine times
I don't even shop no more, stylist bring it to my door
I don't wanna talk no more, n*ggas call whoever G.O.A.T.s
Real P, slay a n*gga BM, he'll never know
The type of starter go up seven zip and tell 'em check the score
[Verse 2: Cash Kidd]
Let her put my necklace on, now that b*tch an Eskimo
Martin Luther King, I gave her back shots on the patio
Every time I pop out, they say, "Uh-oh," like SpaghettiOs
Ironic how I got your b*tch whipped but I never told
Yeah, free the 74, yeah, all these n*ggas lame
He a gangster, but he still a rat, Pinky and the Brain
Makin' deals on the stand like he sell lemonade
Don't feel bad for bein' a broke boy, all you n*ggas strange
I already know the hate come with this sh*t, that's anyways
All these chains and whips, it's like an episode of Fifty Shades
Switchy on the glizzy, blew the whole crowd like a Pistons game
Louis mixed with Fendi, I woke up and put on anything
Thigh pads on, sh*t feel like Pop Warner
Got this b*tch slappin', n*gga, I think I'm Ike Turner
Identity theft, today, I'm a white person
My wrist wanted advice, I gave it some nice pointers
Top of the mornin', air a n*gga like Tom Joyner
I knew the RICO was on the way, we kept fightin' murders
The only way the opps can get back is a body surgery
Leanin' with the FN like I'm writin' cursive