Migo be the reason that my trap house got bows in it
Wake up sell a pound every morning bitch im cold wit it
Nigga we the reason that yo vehicle got holes in it
Mail Man Dyl Bitch I'm Always Ona Road wit it
Every dollar count pound to pound ounce to ounce
Plug Fronted 30 I Gotta Week To make em bounce
My lil Gutta Bitch Just Paid the Plug Thru Her account
I'm the Mail Man Pull Up On Me U Need A Stamp
Long as it add ima put it in the bag
Now i can afford all the shit i Neva had
The opps broke af that's why them niggas always mad
I'm In Dallas Wit My Killa I Told this Nigga Cut his shag
I can't fw trump I Hope My Migo Gotta Pass
30 pounds of lows it's damn near twenty of the gas
Paid the plug his money i got plenty ina stash
Fuck her good and treat ha right n she give me wat i ask
I went Vegas, LA, Tennessee, and Texas
I pop out bitches staring ain't even got a necklace
At 13 wit my guys in my pops lexus
You can say I'm plugged in i say i got connections
I Done met so many plugs i done blew the fuse
I saved up and bought a pound u bought designer shoes
They slept on a young Nigga i watched the city snooze
Now I'm taxing pussy Nigga you gotta give me blues
Don't worry bout wat i paid jus kno wat u finna pay
450 grams sell 3 of them in a day
Bussing down them slabs str8 profit all in my face
Paid n I'm full but i ain't Mitch, Rico, or ace
I'm sipping on promethazine this shit my medicine
You Want some dead opps I want some dead presidents
Don't get me wrong the opps gone get it too they just irrelevant
Come around here playing watch me turn you to a skeleton
Watch how u slide slip & fall and u wreck
Shoot the window twenty times hit em all in his chest
I Can't kick it when I'm broke I like to ball with a check
I just do this for my niggas that be calling collect