NWA (feat. Migos, Wicced, Peewee Longway & MPA Duke)

Baby keep me on my P's, let's break down 100 P's

Gucci gas go 33 but gotta get 30 P

I don't even need a reason to hit you with the heat

These shoes don't come out this season, but still they on my feet

Old folk keep calling us heathens, too many drugs on the street

I'm servin' right down by 4 Seasons, niggas from the pen won't weep

PeeWee got the bricks and the bales, listen up to the story I tell

The bricks, they came from the mail, my plug his name is Miguel

I'm in the kitchen, counting up benji's

Yo bitch washing dishes and wrapping up fishes

Used to run from the cops on the block, hit four hot bar

Took it to the chop shop

If I fuck with ya, I'm making you straight drop

If I don't know ya, I'mma get ya rerock

Got a bando in Boston

The way I pitch them 8-balls, shoulda played for the Red Sox

Just took a loss, 'bout to take something off

Put it to the head, make her open up the vault

Say you got bird, head all in a loss

Soon as you turn the key boy you bout to get off

Bought a brand new A-P, but I'm always late

Everyday my birthday, now watch me bake cake

I finesse the plug for the drugs

Even though a nigga always show love

If he ain't Migos, he ain't MPA

Brick Squad, nigga you ain't my blood

Tryna hit my blunt, tryna sip my drank

What the fuck you think?

Ain't shit soft around my way

Unless you talkin' 'bout cocaine