Who the sh*t lyrics

[Verse 1: Fredo Santana]
Pull up I'm like who the sh*t
My Porsche truck sittin' on Butzi's
Thinkin' you can f*ck wit' me, man, you must be ludicrous
Fall back, I do this sh*t, my trap house got me super rich
Dominican b*tch, she super thick, no goofy sh*t, I'm with the sh*t
Like, who the sh*t? Like, who the sh*t?

[Verse 2: Ballout]
No ballin' sh*t
Go to the mall just coppin' sh*t
Pickin' sh*t, I don't really care just gettin' sh*t
In my trap, I ain't sellin' nothin' but them chickens b*tch
Really just be coolin', motherf*ckers say they be kickin' it
Ridin' with the squad and we got Michael Pippen, b*tch

[Verse 3: Tadoe]
Capo the Barbarian
We sending shots, we bury 'em
Them hoes I one night and f*ck, you wife 'em up and marry 'em
I slam di*k all in her mouth, she callin' me Sean Merriman
I ain't worried 'bout no f*ckin opp, this 4-0 that I'm carryin'
Squad, b*tch, tweak, you get robbed, sh*t
Swear to God, Caperboy, I'll call him, he on his job quick

[Verse 4: Capo]
Squad sh*t, GBE on that mob sh*t
Pullin' 30's, totin' weapons
And we lettin' them b*tches spark, b*tch
Say you don't want no smoke
Then why you start sh*t?
If I catch an opp lackin', smoke his ass
Comin' out that apartment
[Verse 5: Gino Marley]
Duffle bags full of work
Catch the Marley carryin'
Bury 'em, money got me buyin' sh*t not wearin' it
Big blunts of the earth and, no, b*tch, I'm not sharing it
I money get, young n*gga flex on b*tch like Money Mitch

[Verse 6: SD]
Come through they like who the sh*t
SD, he got hoover clips
Come through with the biggest 40, don't make us have to do this sh*t
I be in the back with your b*tch just coolin' it
Don't make us spread the word, I have the whole town movin' it
Goofy b*tch, when I'm on the block you know them beams lit
Usually, I be with the squad just kickin' it
But if you think it's macaroni, you gon' make us empty clips
Common sense, we ride with the mops just takin' sh*t

[Verse 7: Tray Savage]
Cautious, cautious, these n*ggas best be cautious
I got a couple shooters, man, they X you like a marksman
Get down, b*tch, 'fore I let this fifty spit
Designer sh*t, all I rock is designer sh*t

[Verse 8: Fredo Santana]
Designer sh*t, designer sh*t
Come through flexin' hard, think they need to rewind this sh*t
Got a Rollie on my wrist, and I still don't know what time it is
I be gettin' a lot of bands
Treat your b*tch like Simon says, she do what I tell her to
Ballin' that's my usual
You ain't gettin no money, you can't fit up on my schedule
Flexin' like the flexers do
You ain't gettin' no money, n*gga, I can't stand next to you
Just poured a whole six, now I'm finna pour another deuce
Talkin' 'bout some money then I might just give a f*ck or two
And if you f*ckin' with the opps then, n*gga, I can't f*ck with you
Fredo ballin' stupid hard, n*gga, that's what that money do
Just bought a pint of lean, sh*t, I call that sh*t the money juice
[Verse 9: Gino Marley]
Trap house runnin' stupid loose
Couple pints of drink so you know we need a Sprite or two
Crib with a mountain view
Racin' to the money so you know I ran a light or two
No fighting, ain't no wrestling, ain't nobody in this b*tch bulletproof
Foreign whips with Forgis too, f*ck her like the pus*y new
No b*tch, you can't spend no night, I might just one hour you
Trappin' is a must so I'm just winning like the winners do
Cooler than a cooler with a MAC that got a cooler too

[Outro: Fredo Santana]
You know, squad sh*t, man
You know how we rockin', you know how we comin', man
You ain't with us, you against us, man
You know, 300 sh*t, man, Savage Squad sh*t, man, GBE baby, man
You know how we comin', man, Big Boss Fredo, man, bosses of all bosses
You don't see me too often, flexin' on you b*tches, see me flossin' that sh*t on me, man
Leave a n*gga in a coffin, bang, bang, squad
Scary Site 2, man, turn up