Intro:

You already know its Yatta baby//

Yatta Verse:

Running for a dream, give it all to the chase//
Shorty so bad, little strong for the taste//
Whole time, been ready, don't belong in the place//
Goddamn here we go, threw the thong in my face//
Threw the thong in my face// 2x
Younging on wax, and I already place//
In the first from you wack cats, PAUSE! what I make//
Is all for the cake, and a larger estate//
Woah! for the ones in the projects//
Niggas know money is the object//
That make the world go round, and your girl go down//
Let the boy go round, off of prospect//
Now I'm chilling out in Soho//
Shawn Kronez, Primal, this the promo//
Good in each state, even though a nigga dolo//
Hollywood broads for the kid that's a no no//
Yatta on his shit better act right, get a nigga stuck like a crack pipe//
All this damn time, I would call his mans blind, now I'm falling I win line cause my raps tight/
Last night I was twisted off them rum shot//
Think I'm in a marathon I run blocks//
Think I'm in a marathon I run blocks//
Now she want to bang like a gunshot//
But all I really want is a keeper//
Shawty got me sick like a fever//
While I'm plotting on the bills like schemer//
But everybody telling me to leave her//
Alone, the homie Kronez gone blaze it final//
But for now I'm a pass off to my nigga Primal//

Chours:

You can't fuck with the boys//
You can't fuck with the boys//
But you stuck with the boy//
I'm telling you, you can't fuck with the boys//
For the bucks and the toys//
You can't fuck with the boys//
You can't fuck with the boys

Primal Verse:

I'm about sipping that Yak, flipping them packs, killing these tracks//
No time to relax, no respect for the slack//
I'm moving, moving, moving on up//
From the east side of Flatbush, where the Haitians hustle that crack boy//
Brooklyn made me, Jersey Raised me//
Dream chase before my liquor straight//
But you cant get on my level, you ain't touching none of my boys either//
And if so, then you getting ethered//
That sneak preview, that flammable substance, that heat we bringing hold up//
Fuck with my boys//
High in orbit asteroid//
Beef on broil, that plot you could never spoil//
Rotten to the core, are you ready for the war//
Yeah we got them wanting more//
Secure my success and everything's ensured//
My pen is sharper than your sword, rolling with my pack of wolves//
Your livelihood is on the line, when push come to shove I'm getting mine//
Steady trying to reach my prime, you earn your shade I earn my shine//
Can't confine, I must align with real motherfuckers on they grind//
We striving for the greatness you just wasting time//
Uh, hold up, fu-fu -fuck with the boyz!//

Chors:

Shawn Kronez Verse:

I step up in this bitch talking fly shit//
Always talking money cause I stay up on that grind shit//
I ain't really tripping cause I'm moving with my crime clique//
Y'all ain't in these streets, y'all be hiding like Sadam bitch!//
Straigh up out the BX, so that mean that we next//
Pull up in your hood, with them goons, in the Pirus//
I ain't with that fake beef, I can show y'all niggas where that cake be//
If y'all really want it y'all get found where them lakes be//
Half of y'all be fake see, moving with them snakes B//
Hit you with the Smif-N now you snitching to them jakes B//
I'm all about that dollar yo, I'm with my nigga Yatta though//
My neck is sub zero, but my bars is on the lava flow//
If we talking money, hope we dealing we some commas though//
My young niggas hungry, eating shit up like piranhas though//
When I speak, niggas listen, something like Obama yo//
Haha, I said I'm something like a bomber yo//