(feat. Boldy James & Helios Hussain)



[Verse 1: Boldy James]

Bass grinding to them pops

Eighty five for the tops

Speeding out to the trace

Twenty five for the flake

Thirty five for a block

Eighteen for the head

Ninety five for the quad

Fifty five for an eight

Twenty eight for the splint

Twelve hundred for a zint

Wait to work while it's wet and let it dry from the plate

Cuz borrowed a quarter from me, can't shove a loyal to me

Scraping up that lawyer money, he just caught another case

Turned down to twelve straights

Pack it up in oil tents

Makin' forty off the breeky, but he triple out of state

Different rentals switchin' plates

With the kibbles and them bits

Saw my niggas shootin' trisp

Playing with them 1008

Missed call from the plug

Brody calling from the clink

Water running in the sink

Blake Griffin off the brink

Alley-oop aboard the rim

Work jumping out the gym

Dog running out the stem

But they love that OilBass



[Verse 2: Sir Micheal Rocks]

I was stayin' in Kailua

You was stayin' in the sewer

Hundred grand on computers

Thousand dollar graphic card

When you still cracking cards

Lemme put em' in their place

Like i'm working real estate

Put these niggas in the cape

Always tryna save a thot

You forgot about the guap

3D printin' me an ounce

Got it from a Google doc

Reinvest it in the wrap

BPS in red and black

Sounds poppin' where i'm at

Ain't no mercy for a rat

I bet she poppin' now

APC drop, I'm down

Bitch was flexing, say she rich from pension

Yeah she drop em' down

Pick em' up and hop into the whip when niggas not around

Tight the f**king [?] in your crib when you outta town, (ooh)

Need a body bra

Hold a shot of [?]

Type to tell twelve that I'm gone when I got a high

Chop it up and put it on a plate like it's À la carte

But she knew it was that OilBass, cause it wouldn't dry



[Verse 3: Chuck Inglish]

Ay yo

I'm at the dry-cleaners

Fat strings in my Adidas

Boombox and Hip-Hopin' out the motherf**kin' Beemer

Moochi pulled up in the side, dog, I had to rethink it

I gotta get another job and count it up in the machine

Cracking numbers

Padded leather on my jumper

Follow through with the wrist when you whip it

Square your shoulders, I don't know it

Just to show it

Costs a brick to break it open

And I told your goofy ass

When you met her, she was gone

Bet it back, six five let it crack, (ay)

Don't you touch shit, I'll count it where it's at

The stone cold stunner come and drop you on your neck

Ted DiBiase, that's a million dollar plan

Damn, and, you dropped a 100k just to get that shit snatched when you got to L.A.,

Them niggas made you buy it back, why you lying in your raps?

If you ain't bought that bag, then you pinching out the sack, nigga