Saint

Ain't no more with that broke shit, my shoeboxes got knots in it

Ain't no more bald head shit, my hair done got some locks in it

If I die, I'm not trippin', I talk to God like I'm not sinnin

They know to call my momma phone, cause they know that I'm vicious

Give me a laptop, a card reader, a couple blanks and I'ma swipe Sax

Plugged threw a lil' work, I came back with ten stacks

You do way better workin' with the plug than runnin' off with a single sack

I'd rather be where the cards swipe and the whip nice not where the hoes at

And I'd rather be up out the streets than OPP where my bro at

Quarter million at seventeen, but a lot of niggas ain't know that