GRATAH

Look at my wrist ice

The way that its frozen you might think its still in December

She tried to convince me huh

Told her come over and give me brain cause I cannot remember

That lil nigga got killed graw

Hot bullets gone bake on his liver you might think its summer

We runnin it up it up

Pretty bitch wanna hop in my whip told her no get a uber

Most of these niggas be hating but they all be pussy

Shoot them like documentaries aint no movie pow

I dont fuck with no random bitches I be choosy

But I still might fuck on your bitch she a groupy