Huge Lifestyle 2 (feat. GTP Daidoe)

Phew, hey

Lifestyle (Damn, Machu, why you had to do 'em like that?)

Lifestyle used to be huge, now this shit colossal

Hellkitties, Trackhawks, we only riding whips with throttle

Rap star, what you think? I'm only hitting models

Explosive tips up in the clip but I'll switch this bitch to hollows

Apricot Gelato but the Backwood banana flavor

V cut, four of Wockiana, that's an activator

Bitch tryna add the drip up? Gon' need a calculator

Funny actor showing love now, while y'all fans are haters

EDD and SBA gone, now your pockets tapped

All that lying in the booth, pull up on him, pop his cap

Punch God, got more jabs on me than a boxing match

Black Amiri jeans, black Goose with the Glock to match (Yeah)

I be out the way but in the way like a side nigga

Don't post yo gun if you ain't gon' come outside with it

Put a potato on the muzzle, tryna fry niggas

Mama told me, "Put that cup down," but I'ma die sipping (Yeah)

Bitch popped a RP, now she on demon time

We fucking in the Scat Pack with the seats reclined

If the bitch broke with no pape', she ain't one of mine

I just dropped a pint in the pop, we ain't pouring lines (Yeah)

Kicks Tom Ford, shit you can't afford

Shirt say BAPE, Bathing Ape, ain't get it from the store

Crackers got my brother in the jam, turn him to a s'more (Huh)

BAPE or the Vlone? Steak always T-bone

White Cartiers, but the chain, that bitch three-tone

Quarter of the Runtz, catch me jumping from the free throw

Running off at night, he done made me cut the beam on

Pandemic scamming, now I'm tryna put the team on

Caught a opp, that's a easy shot like a free throw

I be in yo hood hoeing niggas like I'm Debo

Draco on me now, I got this bitch under the pea coat

Run up on the trap, beat and shot him through the peephole

Seven hunnid dollar zip, can't you smell the weed strong?

Let the Glock bang-bang and get my Keef on

Dub in the twenty-eight Ksubis, this a meat roll

I done ran my bag up, it ain't no stopping me

If it's smoke, we gon' get active, fuck apology

But I can't leave my gun at the crib, I feel like twenty-three

A hunnid for the eighthy, we smoking this shit, exotic weed

Star player, I can feel the whole world watching me

In the hood buying properties like Monopoly

BabyTron, bitch, I'm who yo lil' brother wanna be

Shit talker, I don't think the Sun as hot as me

GMC 2021, I just hit the road in it

A thousand some' P's in the trunk

I ain't tryna hit yo weed, it ain't Runtz

I gotta do the limit on the road 'cause police in the cut (Yeah)

Keep that bitch on me, I ain't one of 'em

And if he slide with his mans, we taking some of 'em

Go put the titty on the Glock and turn the switchie on

Yeah, we tryna slide on the opps and send a nigga home

Chain, it got some gold riches on it

Don't get me yo site 'cause I'm going stupid on it

Why doggy tryna fight? I'ma up that blicky on him

It's gon' be the end of yo life, I might put some bitches on him (Huh)

Bet my bullies picking on him, Glocks with fully switches on 'em

Need to lace these damn Track.2's, I keep on tripping on 'em

Spot up from the corner, I ain't even have to dribble on 'em

Fast fucker on the freeway, I'm finna wiggle on him

Thousand dollar pop, I might fuck around and sleep for months

If it ain't ZaZa, don't even think to swing the blunt

On Saks with a haymaker, finna beat it up

Bin Reaper, you won't even hear me creeping up

(Damn, Machu, why you had to do 'em like that?)