“Tunechi’s back, Tunechi’s back”
That’s all these bitches screaming that Tunechi’s back
All eyes on me; nigga, picture I’m rolling
Strapped-up with that Mac, masked-up like a goalie
Man, my bitch on that coke, she snorted four and a baby
Now, the bitch owe me; she sell that pussy and pay me
They saying “Tunechi’s back! Tunechi’s back!”
And I brought them twins with me, nigga, Click and Clack
Let’s go

Out on bail, work on the scale
Put some change on your head, boy, you on sale
Yeah I’ll see you in hell, pop-pop, get well
Make breakfast
‘Cause I got you walking on egg shells
Xan with that lean
I ain’t a begging motherfucker, but, nigga, please!
And I aim this motherfucker at your memories
And all my niggas Bloods, but we make you niggas bleed
Yeah, Bloody Mary
I’m the one with the money, so I ain’t the one with the gun
All I do is give the word to the one with the gun
I’m triple OG, Fuque splitting a Sweet
Fuck bitches, get money—mission complete
Man, fuck these niggas, I ain’t worried ’bout ’em
These niggas pure pussy, pull a pearl out ’em
Yeah, I got a virgin, I call her Madonna
But I ain’t trippin’, her head is a monster
Yeah, we do this for real
Swear to God, I never shoot unless I’m shooting to kill
Young wild motherfucker, pop you and a pill
Boy, instead of writing raps, you should be writing your will
You a dead man
I get to poppin’ this bitch, watch where your head land
I ain’t right, I swear to God, I need my head scanned
Stand up and eat that pussy while she on a headstand
I’m a dog, ho
Camo cargos, semi-auto
My bitch sniff more lines than a barcode, yeah!
Wish I could take a shot of Ciroc with Pac
Sorry for the wait, ’til my album drop