This is a song about "Bugatti and thug life"

And your shit is glass thug and you never outside

Dope money still a object, it’s the same damn grind

When a thug cries and it only happens

Bout some, but never put out the stout guns

Hot man, god damn, killa cam be live

I was told i wasn’t about the thug life

Of the baby not bein' digested by a fuckin' hungry punk

Rip to my dad and my cuz,im just a very polite thug,

Two kids, wide hips, found something in her we didn't see

I dumped the hoe and fell asleep inside of a bugatti

Things couldn't get any clearer, the thug got nearer and nearer,

When we ride!it's the imperial serial killer

Go fuck fendi cassh and bugatti boy rich

I can't hear you little niggas in ibiza bitch

Them niggas tippin' good girl but i can make it flood

Me and my lil' thug gotta it from the mud