(Run it up, Beezee)
(AT)
See, thirty thousand feet up and I ain't going home
We came from testing these pistols out on a open road
And now it's looking like ice cream that was dipped in gold
Now I need plenty different phones for all these different hoes
See, I've been making my way through these streets again
Hate to say it, but I pray these niggas decease, on twin
Gotta play strategic 'cause this lifestyle full of misconceptions
And I would never play the streets without this loaded weapon
On or around me
Wake up, uh
Oh, these niggas need to wake up