[Produced by Tommy Brown]
[Intro: T.I.]
Leggo
[Hook: Shad Da God & T.I]
Yeah, you know I'm ridin' with that 6 (hol' up!)
Come through in that Benz playin' big (I say hol' up!)
And we blow that gas, you can smell her (turn it)
Ain't sh*t chu could motherf*ckin' tell us (turn it)
Man I heard a fake one talkin' slick bout the kid (hol' up!)
Tell the hoe we playin' with the paper like a kid
Bankroll they neck, that's the sh*t they just throat
Hit the green lights, everybody on go (and you know it man)
Yeah, that's the motherf*ckin' kid, b*tch
You know I got my city, b*tch
I say, you could get your wig split
[Verse 1: Travi$ Scott]
Go on and let me dim the white light, burn the white candles
Get a white girl out her white dress, down to white sandals (ya dig?)
The only stars in astrology that's making profits
Prophets on a rocket, like my city, we don't need the comet
And all that blasé, blasé, all that nonce, nonce
My girl look like a Nicki Rihanna Minaj Grande Yonce
That ego on a pedistal, you need better dude
I told her that APC not ABC, public school not 1, 2, 3
Still pushing packs, pushing packs on some mule sh*t
I'm over night your limbs relax on some cool sh*t
When the sun go down we jump around, we off the sh*ts
Don't underdig the kids, ya digg?
Leggo