Scandal

(album: Happy Halloween 3 - 2020)

Ayy, if you don't know me, now you know me, nigga, I'm a lil' rich fucking bastard

Ayy, nigga, I'm a rich fucking bastard
Reach, get you plastered
Praying for a brick, see my prayers getting answered
Yeah, I'm praying for a lick, my stick dirty, it got cancer
Play and get you canceled, flew the bitch from Tampa
It was me and Spiffy throwing money on the dancers
Prada Papi on my Transformer Prada sandals
She said she was gay, crossed her over, I got handles
Yeah, instead of you just hustling, rather get rich off of scandals
In a drop-top with a bitch look like the bitch from Scandal
Ayy, with a black ski on my head, I gotta watch for cameras
Yeah, I bet he get put inside the trunk, life's a gamble
In the studio with Johnny C, no rapping, we all gamble
I was on the backstreet, I heard a gunshot, ayy, I seen a body had dropped
Ayy, but nobody called cops
Get the striker, get the car chopped
My garage look like a car shop
And my bully eat steak and pork chops
And my studio gated, Fort Knox
It was just me and Yak, we used to steal cars and door lock
It was just me and Jet, we used to tell everybody come shop
It was just me and JB, we high speed in my BM car
It was just me and Cashout, thirty clips, my mask out
'Cause we finna take something
Ayy, bitch, I'm rich, I'll pay for it, my lil' boy break something
When I feel broke, I get some pounds to trap, but who gon' take somethin'?
In the studio, shit saved my life, I'm tryna make something
Ayy, nigga, I'm just tryna be great for son son
Had walked out the studio, came back in, I wasn't done
Plug dropping fifty bags, tryna meet me at the London
Ayy, if the situation sticky, keep your gun, son
Nigga, I don't trust nothing, baby boy got trust funds
Ayy, ayy, C4 be on my shoulder telling me to shoot him
Ayy, ayy, the CEO say, "Calm your nerves, nigga, you the boss, just use your shooters"
Ayy, I can't trust these niggas no more, they some wocky movers
He the one that took it there, I wouldn't even got us to this, uh
It's a fifty-fifty split this shit if we gon' do this
If these bitches coming, make sure it's some commas 'round, we been through this, uh
I'ma empty a whole clip, nigga, if I'm gon' shoot this up
It's some real niggas with me right now that don't give a fuck
So I keep it tucked, ain't gon' slow down, speed it up
Purple sell me nina plug, to come back, keep re-ing up
Nigga got that look on his face like they finna eat it up
Ayy, these niggas better do right, a hundred shots, disagree with us
Funeral homes going up, fifty-shot drums loading up
Ayy, goddamn, 4, you going up, uh
Nigga, you must think I ain't notice that
Hit your block and take your temperature, you fraud and I can't vent with you, uh
So you better keep that stick with you

(Hold up, Spiffy on this motherfucker)