[Produced by Yung Ladd & Heat Academy]
[Prehook]
Bitch nigga getting greedy with the K
You a pussy nigga, you won’t bust a grape
All them carrots on your plate, get this banana in your face
Time to eat and all my niggas in the grave
[Hook]
Screaming fuck this shit let’s have a food fight
Fuck this shit let’s have a food fight
My niggas starving, we’s about to have a food fight
Fuck this shit, let’s have a food fight
Fuck this shit let’s have a food fight
My niggas hungry, we’s about to have a food fight
My niggas starving, we’s about to have a food fight
Fuck this shit let’s have a food fight
[Verse 1 – Starlito]
I been dreaming this shit since free lunch
Beating on the table, now we meeting up with labels
I sleep when I turn 80, think bout keeping up, you’re crazy
You want beef? It’s all gravy
I just grab them chopsticks, grip em tight
Show you what I’m living like
Got to smoke that rapper weed just to have an appetite
That’s alright, insomniac, side effect counting stacks
I might, sell a sugar cookie, 12 50
And that’s all white
Like a bake sale, I fuck with you, I take 12
Last nigga tried to take something, ate shells
I thank MAC 11, tomato tomato, whatever you call it
Broad day, potato on the nozzle
[Prehook + Hook]
[Verse 2 – Don Trip]
Whole lot of money, whole lot of dope
I’m sharp as a bayonet coming right at your throat
You see when rap wasn’t paying yeah I was breaking up Os
Got so much dirt on my hands it’s made its way to my soul
Now this fast money got a nigga hooked like a fishing pole
Slanging mid green got my pockets full of dinner rolls
Potato on the barrel, time to eat, bring your beef
Hundred rounds, everybody get a piece, take your seat
Hunt a rabbit for its foot, slay a horse for its shoe
Get you killed for a four leaf clover, lucky you
Bitch I’m shooting like Nate, short nigga, short fuse
Got my knife, I’m just coming for my slice, fork you
[Prehook + Hook x3]
[Verse 3 – Starlito]
They just want the Jordans, I just want that Jordan money
And I ain’t got no hoop dreams, fuck that shit, record this for me
Start that water boiling, mater fact drop this half a quarter for me
Or drop this bale of loud off and come back with a recording budget
Naw, get a job, go to school
Probably be the first one to tell you that’s cool
Probably get murked, take a step in my shoes
First time you sleep you slip, and slippers count, can’t snooze
Can’t count no sheep but told my peeps you can count on me
Young nigga roll up, got an ounce on me
Young niggas roll up, no doubt they gon’ squeeze
Run with some OGs sell a whole bunch of Ps
Got some loud too strong for Febreeze
Light up and just zone to these beats
Naked pictures in my phone from some freaks
I ain’t been home in some weeks
Last seen counting money with your ho in the Jeep
It ain’t your flow, it’s your beats
I been doing shows like everywhere
And you niggas ain’t nothing in the streets
Ain’t fucking with me, or Trip
[Verse 4 – Don Trip]
Not even half way, living every day like it’s my last day
Y’all lil niggas talking bout the money, I got more than that in my ash tray
And I don’t even smoke, that’s piff blowing
I’m stepping on niggas, fuck tiptoeing
I live this shit, I ain’t just recording
Bitch I got more heart than Brendan Owen
Fourty four, bulldog
Shiny tour, we call it [?]
I’m in your living room on your lazy boy
Fucking your girl so good she should pay me for it
Get more neck than vocal cords
At any given moment we can go to war
And why is it that opportunity never knocks on the open doro
I got this covered like a pawn show
Gorilla clique head honcho
And real shit, between me and my pen
I got more hits than a combo
Shooters with me what you don’t know
Double drums like a bongo
East side, super heavy weight
And I’m still flyer than Dumbo
Bitch
