(808 Mafia)
Face ass
No Ceilings, hah!
No Ceilings
Yeah, no
(Got ’em)

I’m standin’ at a table full of choppas, nigga
I’m sippin’ on the maple, Aunt Jemima, nigga
And trust me, nigga, you don’t want no drama, nigga
Cause I swear we all nuts, John Bobbitt, nigga, whoa
If you ain’t got no skaters you ain’t poppin’, nigga
If you ain’t got no skaters you ain’t poppin’, nigga
If you ain’t got no skaters you ain’t gnarly, nigga
Yeah you see us, we just skatin’, you just fallin’, nigga, whoa

She tryna put this money in her stocking
She kinda thick as fuck and got some knockers, whoa
My niggas really Blood, and you just spotting whoa
We all over the bread like a Sloppy Joe
And when I’m in the pussy I’m a boss, knock her off
My enemy don’t cross the line I draw, respect my art
Man I swear to God, these pussies soft like a moth
Weezy baby, diaper off, different cloth, different thoughts
Sippin’ syrup like it’s broth, life is short
Tart, fuck his bitch, whip his kids, drive his car
I’m grindin’, tryna stack a hundred commas
Just popped a combo, I ain’t talkin’ bout McDonald’s, whoa

I’m standin’ at a table full of choppas
I’m standin’ in the Maybach cause it’s topless
I’m standin’ at a table full of options
Different bitches, different flavors, different toppings
And we ain’t got no traitors in our posse
And really I’m just wavy and I’m saucy
And really I’m amazing and I’m awesome
My whole squad lit, nigga, arson
If you ain’t got no skaters you ain’t gnarly nigga
If you ain’t been to Vegas, you ain’t party nigga
Shout out to Lil Capito and Marley nigga
I’ve been fuckin’ with them since Atari, nigga
And me, I’m a lil 504 New Orleans nigga
I be in 305 though like a Marlin, nigga
And Hoody, he from Texas, bitches boppin’, mane
And since I met him, I ain’t ran out of drank, whoa!

When we leave H-Town, it’s in a fish tank
Glass house Chevrolet, you can see everything
Bad bitches with cocaine nose rings
Give it up to real niggas and expose lames
Cold game, got me in the Mulsanne
Killin’ these streets, audio drug slang
If you don’t collect Ferraris, you ain’t poppin’, nigga
You could learn Italian in my driveway, bitches
If it ain’t OG, I ain’t coppin’
Don’t smoke, we just throw it in the garbage
Them niggas ain’t tough, they just talkin’
Outchea after dark, them niggas targets
Horror movie writer, I be with the monsters
Trill surround us, you might not make it out ’em
Phone calls in the morning, say they found him
Whole hood wanna see what y’all gon’ do about it
Rolled up on the front porch at my grandma’s house
Watchin’ Blood Sport through the screen door
What you know about gunshots? Ever seen war?
I’ve really seen more than I talk ’bout, nigga
Stuntin’ on streets you’re scared to drive down
Our town, children be firin’ live rounds
Hug the ground ’cause the shit gettin’ serious
Fuck around, get killed unintentional
While I’m outchea eatin’, nigga, Whole Foods
Rollin’ up straight gas, fresh produce
I’m the guy that you go to, criminal smooth
Digital moves, triple the loot
Hopped on the phone, called the lot, “Gimme the coupe”
I thought of Tune, called back, told him, “Give me two”
That’s what I do
If you ain’t got no Daytons, you ain’t poppin’, nigga
One time for my low-riders hoppin’, nigga

Yeah, eah, eah
Nah, nah nah, nah
Yeah