Dead Man Walking

Buddha bless this beat Yuh, ay, go, ay, ah, oh, go, skeet Bitch Where my motherfucking stack Why them twenties in the front? Why them hunnids in the back? Show me what you got Bring it back for some cash I'm a self made prodigy, I look like a bag I'm a fuckin', millionaire I mean it I'ma put a bitch on Front Street if you don't believe it Ask your motherfucking, friends I'ma do it I'm that nigga with the, AK, I'ma shoot it I got, bitches who in love like I'm Cupid If a nigga cross me up, on my mother, boy he stupid, he a Dead man, walking Chalk, tape posin', Grand Am skrtin' Bad bitch, big booty, and she twerkin' Ain't no flockin', I'm in Stockholm, why you stalking Twerkin' off a sidekick, like I'm Robin Dick have her moaning 'til the neighbors come a knockin' Only time a nigga sweat when a nigga joggin' I can't take advice from someone who gotta clock in That's a Fendi, got two Bentleys, white and green One Ferrari, all red like Supreme Your bitch, a meat lover for the team Try to cross me out, do you know what that mean You a dead man, walking Chalk, tape posin', Grand Am skrtin' Bad bitch, big booty, and she twerkin' Ain't no flockin', I'm in Stockholm, why you stalking --- Dead Man Walking - Lil Yachty and Quality Control