Bando Boyz Free 5

Yeah
Bando Boyz Free for life
Re-Re-Retromoney, Retromoney

All eyes on me, got me feeling like 2Pac (2Pac)
They hit me up on Insta, but never in the streets (no)
They’re salty 'cause in their hood, they hear me (haha)
And they’re mad 'cause I don’t give a fuck about them
I hooked up with some chick (ah), didn’t even know (no)
I hit up a salon, but I already got my cut
You’re all on your high horse, I’m flying higher than Everest (trap)
You’re jealous, I’m blowing up, cousin, what do you think?
All these haters on my dick, they call me daddy (daddy)
I treat 'em like dogs, catch a pussy like a baddie (grr, paw)
Crying on social media 'cause nobody hears them (nah)
And they’re in their thirties, still acting like kids (hahaha)
New car, let’s go (opp), new house, let’s go (yeah)
A million for a mixtape, dude, we ain't the same (ah)
Half of their career is worth just my garage (skrrt-skrrt)
No wonder they’re jerking off thinking about my persona (keo)
I’m taking a shit while I write this shit
To match the crap they write in the comments
Look how I do it (yeah), I’m a wizard at this
They can’t even be in this class, not even styling their hair (ah)
And all this drip on my body, I look like a lake (drip)
They lose it all when the dice are rolled (ah)
I know I hurt feelings almost every time I speak (oh shi–)
All these niggas broke, probably traveling with Trivago (hahaha)
Might get you for an AP (ah), my hitters moving quick
Fuck these other stores, bitch, I got money on my Dickies
Blicky with extendo, got 'em feeling kinda soft
RAM super scary, calling home like it’s E.T
You’re all some bitches (ah), drinking from my PP
Give me ten minutes and I’ll smoke 'em like a blunt
My crew’s still open if we move white and Krippy (Bando Boyz)
So far in their trap house, this track’s creepy (look)
I got long bars, three slips for my opps (for my opps)
Whatever they say, I’m always on top (on top)
They want to involve me, surely messing with the cops (ni-no)
The industry can’t copy me, there’ll never be another like me (no)
Those niggas are soft, go put on your gloss (run)
You’re mad at home while I’m selling to your bros
Certified in the streets, even Rick Ross says hi (boss)
Drinking Belaire got me feeling like a boss
I write all my bars, dedicated to those fans
If they talk, it’s just to talk, they can give it to me anytime
I’m shooting bullets, don’t even know where they land (grr, grr)
I got your bitch in her panties, giving her a loaf of bread (ah)
My money’s back, prisoner of Azkaban
I ate that fruit salad and it made me wanna shit
Every time someone throws shade, their career’s done (hahaha)
'Cause they’re all fake, then they call to fix it (prr, prr)
That’s a whore (whore), the other’s another whore (another)
'Cause they throw shade for fame, and I fuck 'em and they enjoy it (ah)
Ten years in this game, you all change your route (yeah)
When I showed up, I took the lead (fuck)
I’m tired of them throwing shade for fame (ey)
They create any drama to go off on a tangent
You acted like a gangster but cry at home
'Cause a white boy rhymes, I stress 'em like scales
Bitch, I’m the king of kings (yeah), I invented all the rules (all)
They want my position, bro, I got all these bitches shaking (shaking)
Trying to get attention with what I spend every Friday (hahaha)
This position is mine and I won’t give it up even if you bury me (the king)
Selling smoke like vapers, shout-out to my backies (whip, whip)
I drink it in a glass all purple like the Lakers
And even if they talk behind my back, they wanna do what I did back in 2017 (uh-huh, Re-Re–)
Dude, to me, you’re not my haters (Retromoney-Retromoney)

Ah-ah
You made me come back, hoes