Way2Geeked

(Mmm, I get it)

(Welcome to 1st Class)

(Hop in the back of the Maybach, the racks on me)

(Back of the Maybach, you know the racks on me)

(Oh lord, jetson made another one)

Back of the Maybach, you know I be sliding in first class

Them niggas fucking, them niggas be ball cap

Them niggas weird, you know I had to fall back

I spilt the drink, I was slidin' in Hellcat

Walked up inside with like six, I need all that

These niggas bitches, we shoot where his heart at

My niggas slimy, they really be heartless

It's a switch on this Glock, catch his ass at the party

(Y'all hangin' out, catch his ass at the— mmm)

(Y'all hanging out, catch his ass at the party)

Way too geeked out the Earth, I departed

I'm skipping class, give a fuck 'bout a tardy

Really Rich and my racks really retarded

Buy her, she rocking Chanel like a Barbie

I was rocking Chrome Heart, the shoes Ed Hardy

I put my ho in some Kapital garments

And I put the Glock in her Teflar bag

In the Hellcat sliding too fast

Yeah I took a lil' ass break, y'all niggas

Y'all fucked 'cause I'm back in my bag

Yeah I just got out the foreign, my twin

Nigga showed me 'bout a hundred racks

Double R PMO, brand new, sliding on shit

Nigga, y'all got the back

Yeah, I just got off the phone Jozizzy

You know (Slayworld soldier), in the Lamb

Yeah, if this shit don't land, I'ma switch up the plan

I flew out of L.A., sippin' Wock' in the sand

How the fuck they try to slide? They end up dead

Nigga, I'm sippin' on red, my pockets

They fat, that nigga, he in debt

Hop out the jet

And I'm counting up racks with my brother, he rolling off X

Them niggas lying

I don't even wanna hear them lil' ass niggas go around

He keep [?

Some of my niggas they sign, some of my niggas trap

One of my brothers just swiped a hundred off a app

My brother just hit me on Telegram

We try to zo on the plane then

We taking you out (Slayworld soldier, phew)

Finna go AP, two-tone (Finna go AP, two-tone)

Recipe Wock', can't go wrong (Recipe Wock', can't go wrong)

Fan ass nigga wanna do some

I hit this ho and then take her home

Twin lost some drink, he just hit my phone

Them niggas broke

So we don't get along (No, we don't get along, phew)

Them niggas broke, so we don't get along (Damn)

Look at his pockets, know my money long

He need to just stop it, he cap in his songs

I be the stylist, I'm putting that shit on

Marni, Celine, I put Prada my ho

Yeah, I got rich, went and bought me some stones

I know you hear the codeine in my tone

(Bitch ass nigga, fast ho, on the OD, I keep pulling)

(I'm really rich on the double R rolling)

(Ha, double R shit)

(Ha, I'm really rich off the— ha, way too geeked)