[Verse 1: Isaiah Rashad]
So don't call me a ^!$$%
Unless you call me "my ^!$$%"

I'm a king, O.E. be slipping, falling from my chalice
Don't mind the bumpers that be missing from my carriage
It's poorly tinted, but my women not embarrassed

I came to bury you average
You feel slighted, it's like she know that I got it
It feel like it, I real life it

I spill vices, you will like it
I promise it's trill vibin', I'm honest
^!$$% ain't no getting money on that conscious %#@!

I'm a just load my gat on some survival %#@!
And when I hear they got a drought on it
I take a month out of rap and I hustle 'till I'm out of it

I got that !@%!e flow, that heat rock
I got that old school, huddle 'till the beat box
Baby I'm just digging in your gushy for the sweet spot

I'm a beat that, 'till that mother$#&@ing beat drop

[Hook: SZA x2]

I got love for my ^!$$%s, my killers
My dealers, my trickers, my bros
I got love for my sisters, my women

My (*##$es, my strippers, my hoes

[Verse 2: Isaiah Rashad]

They don't kill you cause you black today
They only feel you when you pass away
The eulogy be so moving

We live the scenes of those movies
Conflicts in school or dope moving
It's so youthful, but if you die today

I hope you find some relief in what a great escape
We still dodging from polices when we make a plate
They line searching in my bucket with the straightest face

It could be eighty eight
Sometimes I wonder why we killers, why they killin' us
I think we only wear a grill because they grilling us

Or how they feelin' us, gotta look really tough
Gotta keep your hands in the cart, know you stealing stuff
Came a long way from a boat and an auction

Now we got names and a vote, then a coffin
Ain't %#@! change but the coast we adopted
Little black children you can call me that ^!$$%, ^!$$%


[Hook x2]