See me on TV, Instagram, b*tch, I'm poppin' (b*tch, I'm poppin')

Cash Carti, Cash Carti, my lane, no stoppin'

N*ggas sneak diss and they tryna plot me

F*ck 'em

F*ck 'em

Find they hoes and f*ck 'em

F*ck 'em

F*ck 'em, find they hoes and f*ck

F*ck 'em then dump 'em then dump 'em

I don't give no f*cks, yeah

Yeah, I feel like Donald Trump now

I don't give a f*ck yeah

Damn

Pump-fake, pump-fake, pump-fake, ooh

Pump-fake, pump-fake, pump-fake, ooh

Pump-fake, pump-fake, pump-fake, ooh

Pump-fake, pump-fake, pump-fake, ooh

Pump-fake, pump-fake, pump-fake, yeah

Pump-fake, pump-fake, pump-fake, yeah

Pump-fake, pump-fake, pump-fake, ooh

Pump-fake, pump-fake, pump-fake, ooh

Pump-fake, pump-fake, pump-fake, yeah

Pump-fake, pump-fake, pump-fake, yeah

Pump-fake

F*ck that b*tch, I pass her to my brodie, yeah

Pump-fake

F*ck her then I pass her to my brodie, yeah

Pump-fake

I don't need no b*tch, I got another one

Pump-fake

I don't give a f*ck I got another one

Yeah, yeah, yeah, with my n*ggas off the Xans

We up at Follies throwin' bands

And all my n*ggas bout that action, yeah

F*ckin what you talkin' bout?

Them 2900 n*ggas 'bout

Green flax in a f*ckin' pouch

N*ggas know what we f*ckin' 'bout

Ya-ya-ya-ya, all these n*ggas wanna bite my swag

Ya-ya-ya-ya, every time your b*tch, she 'bout this sh*t

Ya-ya-ya-ya, she don't talk, she like ya-ya pimp

Yung Carti that f*ckin' pimp

B*tch, I walk with a f*ckin' limp

Rest in peace Pimp C, my n*gga

Rest in peace Pimp C, my n*gga

Yung Cash Carti that young n*gga

Is that young n*gga

Shakes and shoppin' sprees, n*gga

Up in f*ckin' London, n*gga

Up in f*ckin' Paris, n*gga

Two cups, I ain't sharin', n*gga

Oh, I need a bag

I need a b*tch with an ass

No attitude, just smash, yeah

Yung Carti that n*gga

Steal my swag, steal my swag

Swag-surfin' on the track

Hold up, let me get that back, oh

Pump-fake, pump-fake, pump-fake, ooh

Pump-fake, pump-fake, pump-fake, ooh

Pump-fake, pump-fake, pump-fake, ooh

Pump-fake, pump-fake, pump-fake, ooh

Pump-fake, pump-fake, pump-fake, yeah

Pump-fake, pump-fake, pump-fake, yeah

Pump-fake, pump-fake, pump-fake, ooh

Pump-fake, pump-fake, pump-fake, ooh

Pump-fake, pump-fake, pump-fake, yeah

Pump-fake, pump-fake, pump-fake, yeah

Hold up, b*tches on my di*k

For what?

For what?

N*ggas wanna see me dead

N*gga, for what?

I got clout, I got clout

Hoes tryna give me mouth

Boy I pull them triggers out

We don't really run our mouth

I'm from Zone 3, Zone 3

13, skate town with the bling

You know how I'm comin', b*tch

Oh-ah

Know how I'm comin', b*tch

Pull them dirty sticks

And we movin' dirty sticks

With the sh*t

Cash Carti got a bag

Got a Louis bag but I put some Gucci in that bag

N*gga f*ck what you talkin' bout

All that sh*t you got

Yung Carti been copped or been had, n*gga, I'm hot

N*gga, I'm hot

Young, hot but I'm cool yeah

Bad b*tch, she a fool yeah

Cash Carti, I cool y'all

But all my n*ggas, they bool yeah

N*ggas yellin' like bool, yeah

Hop in the bank like bool, yeah

Hop in the ships like bool, yeah

Hop in sets like bool, yeah

Pump-fake, pump-fake, pump-fake, ooh

Pump-fake, pump-fake, pump-fake, ooh

Pump-fake, pump-fake, pump-fake, ooh

Pump-fake, pump-fake, pump-fake, ooh

Pump-fake, pump-fake, pump-fake, yeah

Pump-fake, pump-fake, pump-fake, yeah

Pump-fake, pump-fake, pump-fake, ooh

Pump-fake, pump-fake, pump-fake, ooh

Pump-fake, pump-fake, pump-fake, yeah (F*ck space ghost purrp)