Fool I got yay
 Straight from the dec on a grindin' day
 Late night I hit the hemp fold of greens
 Right back to the trap serving fiends

 (verse 1: Wicked)

 Check the eyes of a ragin' savage
 Fuck my bitch
 Fuck Oprah
 Fuck marriage
 Get it in gold
 Don't ask Wicked for shit
 I'm over charging these niggas for this blowned up shit
 Those punk ass niggas in the hood want his cash back
 (Man y'all know you overcharged for dat count of wax(?))
 I can't tell Nino
 They've added 'em up like burnouts
 (Just some punk-ass niggas who put the word out)
 I'm the judge I've got a grudge
 I'm holdin' court
 Gonna finish you nigga
 Gonna raid your fort
 Evidently y'all don't know I'm irregular
 Not your average dope dealer, burgular
 See I got yay so I'm in it for a minute
 Damn Columbians look to fuck they own business
 I send a shoutout to my niggas in the cells
 Fallen Gs, broke niggas, and head swellers
 See y'all are bitches and the jury can came with ease(?)
 All the cars in cribs can't fade my cheese
 Last night I had a talk with the devil
 He said, "Wicked(!) take this game to another level"
 In my mind ain't no peace but the 9
 That's why I stay ever on the grind
 Grind in Decatum every day
 Fool I got yay

 (verse 2: Wicked)

 Fool I'm climbin'
 Straight grindin
 (Gangsta!)
 Still risin'
 I got my first 20 Gs at seventeen
 And fuck a Benz I had a Chevy and Maclean's(?)
 All them years in the hood I turned them Gs
 Sucked the life from the hood like some fleas
 Shit was cool 'till we blew up
 Yeah, and now them faces are curious where we grew up
 Went from Jag to Jetta, Jetta to hooptie
 So them punk-ass cops wouldn't detect me
 I flipped an H(?) so I could fold and give double-ups
 My hip is blown(?)
 I can't sleep uncovered up
 I had to jump out the hood for several reasons
 Bitches were snitchin'
 Niggas were schemin'
 And Ghetto Mafia was under inditement
 One from the fed
 One from the president

 (chorus)

 (outro