Lyrics 
Bitch, I feel like a Migo cause I stay with the trio
Talk all you want, bitch, it never brews the ego
Yeah the drugs comin' load just hit up the depot
Designer down, bitch, I guess he was a cheapo
Catch me chillin' in the South, I be chillin' in the Rico
From the 4, bitch, now I'm feelin' like I'm fuckin' Nico
This sum call the duty shit, we pull up in the Hilo
Yeah, you talk about the rap shit, I keep it on the D-Low

Jacob ain't gonna see another fuckin' night
Yeah I slashed him with the poker, finna choke him with the knife
And if I don't got metal, yeah, I hit him with the pipe
And you know I like liquor, yeah, I put it in my Sprite
Yeah, I gotta stay high, yeah, you know, fuck this life
All my opps stay dead, cause the bullet count was five
Yeah, the ganja green, like to linger, look at my eyes
And if I get caught by 12, I'm never cuttin' ties
Bitch I feel like Josh Block, just pass the fuckin' fries
Step outside, they all shocked, yeah, they catch some fuckin' flies
Yeah, I'm sellin' all this product, cause I know the fiends buy
Ganja green, so gas, got me lifted to the sky
All my product yeah, it be savin' many fuckin' lives
I be on the fuckin' field, while you chillin' on the side
Got the 392 parked up, it's lookin' wide
Finna shoot up Gucci, if they don't have my size

Bitch, I feel like a Migo cause I stay with the trio
Talk all you want, bitch, it never brews the ego
Yeah the drugs comin' load just hit up the depot
Designer down, bitch, I guess he was a cheapo
Catch me chillin' in the South, I be chillin' in the Rico
From the 4, bitch, now I'm feelin' like I'm fuckin' Nico
This sum call the duty shit, we pull up in the Hilo
Yeah, you talk about the rap shit, I keep it on the D-Low

Trio

Lyrics
Puffin' on the Cig on the dart
Bitch, you know we havin' shootouts at the park
Catch me in the cat it's a push to start 
We always on the top go check the fuckin' charts
Keep your lips fuckin' sealed Never talkin' to a nark
Best believe when I hop out hoodie with a shark 
Did you know I got my shank? We slice em' in the dark
And I'm already lit, bitch, I don't need a spark
And he already dead, I hit him in the heart

Bitch you know I'm dripped down just check the fit
In a different fuckin' state, but I got it on my hip
Got the ice on the floor, gotta watch my step Bitch, I might slip
Anyone test, B Bum, yeah, you know they finna quit
Have a throwdown, then I poke him, yeah, I shake him in his shit
If I tote the metal, bitch, I know my bullets fuckin' hit
And I dress in fuckin' style, put the Rolex on the wrist
Me and Jay on the track, so you know we Get Lit

Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah

$ailorJay
I been thinkin' bout that shit, I been thinkin' bout that bitch
I been thinkin' bout that shit, that we really could've been
Bitch, I'm Sailor Jay, yeah, I'm gettin, gettin really lit 
Bitch, I'm Sailor Jay, yeah, I'm makin' money and I'm rich
I promise if you talk some shit, then you ain't goin' really far
Bitch, I'm in the whip, bitch, I swear that bitch like Mario Kart

Burbum
Puffin' on the Cig on the dart
Bitch, you know we havin' shootouts at the park
Catch me in the cat it's a push to start 
We always on the top go check the fuckin' charts
Keep your lips fuckin' sealed Never talkin' to a nark
Best believe when I hop out hoodie with a shark 
Did you know I got my shank? We slice em' in the dark
And I'm already lit, bitch, I don't need a spark
And he already dead, I hit him in the heart

Get Lit

Lyrics 
Bitch, I'm Burbum one of one you better know your role
And I'm sellin' all the black, but I'm not talkin' coal
And I'm rockin' double trouble, got the knife and the pole
And if I'm stressed out, bitch, you know I'm finna roll
Yeah he always talkin' hots, but bitch, he a troll
Yeah, look up, bitch, my teeth plated gold
They be talkin' on the hot, yeah, it's gettin' fuckin' old
And I'm watchin' my step, 3,000 for the sole

Bow, bow, bow, bow, bow, when I hit the fuckin' block
Drip down, bitch, Bathing Ape for the socks
Finna slam his bitch, ass, like I'm Dwane the fuckin' rock
And the opps scared of Burbum, cause I keep the fuckin' Glock
And I got a hoe on deck, and you know she finna slop
Christian Dior's for the kicks, bitch, you know I'm finna shop
Bitch, I'm always cookin' up, but I'm never in a crock
And I'm not Roddy Rich, but I got him in the box
Love my fuckin' plug, yeah, free em from the cops
Feelin' like I'm fuckin' Jordan, but I'm white, I got hops
Yeah, you sit in fuckin' side, and you talkin' bout my opps
Got the two-two-three, bitch, finna tote the fuckin' mop
And he finna get the knife if he talk about the hots
I be smokin' inside, you be talkin' bout some spots
You can never fuckin' shoot if you never had a shot
And the Borla exhaust be rumblin' off the lot

Bitch, I'm Burbum one of one you better know your role
And I'm sellin' all the black, but I'm not talkin' coal
And I'm rockin' double trouble, got the knife and the pole
And if I'm stressed out, bitch, you know I'm finna roll
Yeah he always talkin' hots, but bitch, he a troll
Yeah, look up, bitch, my teeth plated gold
They be talkin' on the hot, yeah, it's gettin' fuckin' old
And I'm watchin' my step, 3,000 for the sole

Where The Numbers

Burbum

Related tracks