FTW lyrics

[Intro]
(Haze, call me back)
Yeah, yeah, yeah
(Damn, Kai, you goin' crazy)

[Verse]
Sometimes wake up and I feel it's f*ck the world
I'm so in love with my b*tch, but sometimes feel it's f*ck my girl
Mr. Krabs about my money, I wish I could f*ck on Pearl
n*ggas chattin', I want action, if it's beef, they come and swirl (Brrt-brrt-brrt)
I can feel my pain turnin' to anger, uh
I just watched my dawg turn to a stranger
I'm just wondering what changed him, uh
I can say my ex made me a demon
'Cause now I feel like all these hoes the same, and I just f*ck 'em to get even
I'm still screamin', "f*ck the label that I left"
The only reason I ain't air 'em out 'cause I don't really want the press'
I'd be damned if I get put up on a shelf
Social media got soft and that's the reason most these n*ggas be depressed
Trippy bullets in the Glock, bro Presi' red
He brothers with my brothers, that's the only reason— ass ain't dead
Hit his chest up, make a b*tch stand for the pledge
I really watched my brother pop a n*gga and then stand over his head
This b*tch ain't that cute, I just want backshots
Run, we get his back popped
Rich as f*ck, I bought my momma that spot
Momma lost her job, and Keke jumped inside that trap spot
Tight wrist, watch the pack drop
Hey lil' bro, my back, watch
Really trust the guys who watch my back
They get one up, we get back
I been broke and I been stressed, but a b*tch, never that
I know Gotti come in strapped, in all black, wit' his mask
Call him DeJ Loaf, if a n*gga try me, he gon' blast
And I know that you mad, but girl, accept the fact
That I can never put this money under anything
I hope you get it, bae, I'm really not a as*h*le
I just can't be focused on you, I'm focused on everything
b*tch, I gotta' elevate
I just marry money, celebrate by smokin' Wedding Cake
I get paid in hella ways
Pop a Adderall, be up for hella days
Havin' talks wit' God 'bout how I'm devil-made
I think his b*tch like me too
I get cash like strippers, checks like Nike
b*tch, give yo' sh*t up, this a stick-up, put my blick up, you could fight me, too
Bad child, hung around a bad crowd, but I like me, too
One blunt ain't enough for all this stress, I'm finna' light me two
Lotta' pills, I'm f*cked up bad
Blame sh*t on my f*cked up past
Rich as f*ck, tell my b*tch, "Don't ask"
Spend a bag on that Birkin bag
Free Wop, 'till my brother back
Commissary, I sent them racks
Seventeen in my f*ckin' mag
Thirty-one when I'm f*ckin' mad
He a b*tch, he don't f*ckin' care, that boy a ghost when sh*t get real
Pop a opp, don't pop no pill
Bro'll still crash for no pills
Pomerol in my lean cup, I don't feel right on this wheel
She gon' take what I feed her, sl*t b*tch, and she know that's real
I'll f*ck her mind up
I just sent the bros to LAX, b*tch, come and find us
Zaza in the wood, I'm smokin' big sh*t
Bro still slidin' like a Ripstik
We still out here on some rich sh*t
Only big sh*t, my lil' bro ain't wit' the blicks, but he still blick sh*t
In that field, we hit sh*t, only hit sticks, we don't do attempteds
Grab my pole and stick sh*t, if I didn't, woulda' got my sh*t split
Really wish some sh*t was different, but it's not, I can't complain
On my own, I'm still the same, don't gotta' pop out wit' no gang