(Berge Always Flexin’)

Hah, End This

Top Say, “Fu-ck These Ni-ggas All In The Industry”

Bi-tch-As-s Ni-ggas Be Cliquin’ Up And Thinkin’ They Gon’ Finish Me

Bi-tch, I Take These Millions And Get At You, It Ain’t No Gettin’ At Me

Bi-tch, I Send Them Hitters To Hit At You, Boy, Don’t Say Shit To Me

Talked To Drake ‘cross Facetime, He Wasn’t Feelin’ Me

Told Me That He Fu-ck With Durk, Damn, That Shit Gettin’ To Me

Told Me That He Like The Shit I’m Doin’, But Can’t Do Shit With Me

So When We Cross Our Ways, Fu-ck What You Say, Bi-tch, You My Enemy

J A Ho, That Ni-gga Played It Cold, Like He Was Gon’ Do A Feature

So I Texted His Line, A Muscle Sign, I Swear It’s Gon’ Be Nice To Meet You

Pus-sy Ni-ggas Tryna Close The Door

Bi-tch, You Ain’t Heard Back From Baton Rouge, To That Nola, Yeah, We Cutthroat

And We Hate Hoes, And Bi-tch, I’m Soldiered Down

Might Play You Close, But Don’t Fu-ck Around

I Just Tried To Pull That Act Off With Them Boys Out That Atlanta Town, Hol’ On

Tats All On My Sleeve, At Night, Can’t Sleep, I Barely Eat, Grew Up In Streets

Bi-tch, You Ain’t Never Had To Kill At Just Eighteen, You Don’t Compare To Me

And Never Ever Up In Life, We Couldn’t Compete

You Want To Jump In Beef And None Of Y’all Wanna Bang It Out With Yb

We Kill Security First And Then You Get Your Head Bust Inside The Street

We Probably Burn A Shirt, Across It, It’ll Be Your Face Across That Tee

Hold On, So Long They’ve Been Tryna X Me

Gotta Tell A Bi-tch, “Hold On, Get Your Roll On”

Gotta Be ’bout That Murder Playin’ With Me

At Night, My Wife Pray With Me, These Ni-ggas Ain’t Stainin’ Me

I Say, “Oh, I Just Wanna Get ’em Gone”

And I Know When The Rain Pours, It Could Be Me Or Either Of Them That’s Gone

So I’m Ready, Ni-gga, With These Millions, Gettin’ At You Bi-tch Ni-ggas

You Don’t Deserve It Anyway, You Ain’t Out That Dirty Anyway, So Fu-ck You, Ni-gga

Tryna Bring Me Pain, I Ain’t Do No Ho Shit In This Game

Like I Ain’t A Man, Ni-gga, What The Fu-ck Y’all Ni-ggas Sayin’? Like I Don’t Bust Brains

Play With Me, Lil Yachty Mad About Jt, Faggot

Bi-tch, Play With Me, Half Of Y’all Ain’t Got More Money Than Me, Bi-tch, I’ve Been Stackin’

I Done Did More Time Than More Time You Ni-ggas Spent Inside The Trenches

Ever Had A Ni-gga Beat Your Mama And Now That You’re Older, Time To Kill ’em?

Or Put Your Dirty Clothes Inside The Pillow Case? You Pus-sy Ni-gga

Singers Puttin’ Tattoos Across They Face, Fu-ck Wrong With These Ni-ggas?

Usin’ Hood Ni-ggas For To Grow Your Face, Bi-tch, I See That, Ni-gga

Ni-gga, You A Trick, And That’s How You Know You’ll Never Be Known In The Trenches

Tryna Think Of Somethin’ Else, Just For To Say, “I Hate You Ni-ggas”

Ni-gga, Bring Your Bold-As-s To Salt Lake, You A Gangster, Ni-gga

Go Ask J. Prince, I’ll Kill Your Daddy Bi-tch, I Ain’t Worried, Ni-gga

I Got Stunna With Me And, Bi-tch, I Got A Fee, That’s To Get Money With Me

That Hitter Came Way From New Orleans, That Split Him In Them Apartments

So Mr. Rap-boy, Shit Like That What Got Me As A Target

Don’t Forget It, I Paid Them Young Ni-ggas

Word ’round, They Claimin’ They Gon’ Kill Me

I Birthed You Young Ni-ggas And, Bi-tch, I’m Bound To Kill An Infant

Hold On, So Long They’ve Been Tryna X Me

Gotta Tell A Bi-tch, “Hold On, Get Your Roll On”

Gotta Be ’bout That Murder Playin’ With Me

At Night, My Wife Pray With Me, These Ni-ggas Ain’t Stainin’ Me

I Say, “Oh, I Just Wanna Get ’em Gone”

And I Know When The Rain Pours, It Could Be Me Or Either Of Them That’s Gone