[Verse 1: 6ix9ine]
Pump to his chest, 40 in the TEC, run up, leave him wet
His b*tch gave me neck, sippin' on that Tech
Keep that chrome on my side, split his head wide
On that type of time, n*ggas down to ride, I ain't gotta lie
You would think your b*tch love me when she calling my phone
She keep blowing up my sh*t, I told her, "Leave me alone"
This b*tch wanted me to f*ck, I only wanted the dome
Heard his n*ggas talking sh*t, but they don't want no smoke
When I get that f*ckin' mop, it's a different approach
n*ggas think that they a giant, but they really a roach
n*ggas choke, when it blow, big pole, with a scope
No reload, watch him fall, 40 blow him down the road, gang
[Hook : Young Renton]
Hang around a lot of annoying ass crackers
Yah, yah, yah annoying ass crackers
You might have a p*nis, I don't
But I have a gun
I call it Thomas McCourt
Because my choppa hate Sheahans
Hang around a lot of annoying ass crackers
Yah, yah, yah annoying ass crackers
You might have a p*nis, I don't
But I have a gun
I call it Edward Smith
Because my choppa hate Sheahans