WHY (prod. kaaj & ba$$player)

PRESSURE (AGAIN) (prod. artist)

mufasa prod. bodegashoppin

925 prod blimey & cancelpierre

500% prod xon4L

2 THE CEILING prod decolore & twohvns

Zeros prod twohvns, jayglory & stixx.jaden

I’m There prod twohvns

CAMPAIGN

(prod. casio5k)

Lyrics:

Exitallure.com
Bitch

Pull up
Pull up
Yeah, no Crep protect, we steppin' in dirt
Yuh
You play with my guys, that's the way you get hurt
Yuh
We just beat the odds, I hit a bitch on the curb
Yuh
And we the new robbers, I'mma go snatch that purse

New plain jane watch, this money won't stop
Ooo
Off of that plane right now, that bitch wanna talk
Yeah, I'm holdin' my racks to my ears
Every time you gon' talk
Steppin' around in some big-ass boots, that's the way I walk
Hold up
Count up them hundreds & thousands
Count up them hundreds & thousands
I just want all of that molly
Hold up, watch me go break a brick
I'ma go meet up with Molly
I'm finna fuck up the party
All on my nose, snotty

I don't even hate myself
I hate the way I hang around you bitches
All them fake-ass bitches
Wanna hang 'round for some clout and bitches
All them pussy-ass bitches
Never wanna fight, but they typin' bitches
They don't even love they bitches
They slap around, give a fuck 'bout bitches

I be speedin', they don't believe me
Let that tire spark
I want that money talk
I'm goin' one way, you go the other
Let's just stay apart
I say it every day, they need a sensei
But I'm gon' train myself

I could be Ray J, you could be Kim K
Ion give a fuck 'bout nun
Act like yo shit don't stank
I'ma break yo back, yeah just like Bane
I'm on some new shit, I'm on some old shit
I need a new mixtape
Climbin' up them Chutes and Ladders
But I don't play games

Don't play with me
Pull up
Yeah, it's hot in here
I think I need a new AC
Gon' go back to skatIng
Cause my fit is all DC
All my clothes is presidential
I needa go D.C
Can't see my body through these cameras
It's a goat they see
Pull up
Count up them hundreds & thousands
Count up them hundreds & thousands
I just want all of that molly
Hold up, watch me go break a brick
I'ma go meet up with Molly
I'm finna fuck up the party
All on my nose, snotty

Damn
All that we know is move
All I do is stay with the dawgs
Just can't leave the troops
Bitches a lame, tryna count my flaws
I just stained the juice
Hol' up, what? Flip the bitch
Uh, I just dropped two

You niggas popped, true
We cookin' 'em in a pot, food
Said I'm top 2
Hit ya, and your squad too
We got hundreds & thousands
Comin' through them dead faces
One, know we check chasin'
Can't claim the bitch, basic

That's just how it go
When you stack all your rolls
Bitch get back, X's O's
Why she tryna pull up on me
Call me bae, like we goals
Better have pape
Racks in the bag, for me
Or, I'ma send you home
We need
Hundreds & thousands

Yeah, no Crep protect, we steppin' in dirt
Yuh
You play with my guys, that's the way you get hurt
Yuh
We just beat the odds, I hit a bitch on the curb
Yuh
And we the new robbers, I'mma go snatch that purse

Hundreds & Thousands (feat. 1of1Soldier)

(prod. casio5k)

Lyrics:

Bump this, Bootleg it, Buy it, Steal it
Sell it, Whatever you need to do

And my pinky finger shining
Off them pinky finger diamonds
And they know I had to flaunt it
And they know I had to cop it

Smoke exotic, out my pocket
I don't trust nobody
Up the score, we toppin
I'ma take your BM shopping
Only fuck them bitches
If them bitches look like Fergie
Only wanna run your pockets
If you got them earnings

Pullin' down them curtains
Pull up, pull up, if you certain 
Got that gas, I burn it
I'ma tell these hoes they earned it
Give a fuck about a T-break
Gimmie head, I know they knees break
This shit need a new due date
Fuck up the set, and we killin' the DJ

Got them choppas
Hold it down for me
This bitch never switchin' sides
Yeah, she hold down for me
This bitch sleepin' in my bed
But this not bed and breakfast
Play that hoe like Tetris
Kick that girl right off my schedule

I don't trust nobody
I don't trust nobody
I don't trust nobody
I don't trust nobody
I don't trust nobody
I don't trust nobody
I don't trust nobody
I don't

You don't know nothin' about me
So just schedule interview
Ask me about my favorite food
Before I fuck yo’ bitch, then snooze
I don't give a fuck about your lifestyle
Doin' what you do
Credibility, you lose
When you don't credit my whole crew

Get your ass in here, we takin' photos
Yeah, hold up, who the fuck rollin' up dope
Yeah, we blowin' up, and fizzin’ up, like soda
Yeah, they hoein’ up, I'm wifin’ up my lover

Everybody knockin' down them lights, I shine so bright like
Pop to the party, like fight night
Everyday feel like a motherfuckin’ Friday
Everyone hittin' the left lane
I'ma swerve up, and I'm hittin' the right lane
Smokin' that shit made me act strange
Heavyweight boxer, don't fuck with the
lightweights

Yeah, the finer shit
My bitch just want the finer shit
Wax on, wax off all my diamonds
Mr. Miyagi shit
I don't trust all of you people
Hope that's obvious
Stack up racks, then hit the dash
I hope thats obvious 

I don't trust nobody
I don't trust nobody
I don't trust nobody
I don't trust nobody
I don't trust nobody
I don't trust nobody
I don't trust nobody
I don't, I don't, I don't

You’re tuned in to the industry's finest DJ
Exitallure.com
The motherfuckin' mixtape king
You bastards

Trust Nobody

(prod. IceWolf & Fazo)

Lyrics: 

Exitallure.com, Bitch, Hol’ up

500k for a Trackhawk Jeep
I can't fuck with hoes
all these hoes just some treesh
Bangin' on the speakers
you be bangin' on the beats
West Wing, fit game, suit on fleek
I'm strapped up, yeah, I got that artillery 
I swear to God, these pussy hoes
They just be killin' me
Hand over fist, I like my money in the first degree Hand over bitches, I like yo' bitch on the silky sheets
What he sayin'? What he claimin'
Yeah, its up, yeah, its stuck
Sayin' that you dangerous, the danger catchin' up
I can't drop no bag on no badass hoe 
And she wanna fuck me and my friend
She bangin’ 4 ‘em both, both, both
And she bangin' for em' both
She a eater, she a freaky 
Ion care bout what she smoke
Bowls on bowls, gotta tiki torch of smoke
It's the West Wing kingdom
And this castle got a moat

Motorboat her titties, bitch, we goin' on a cruise
And the way you talkin', you be bangin' for a bruise
I'ma keep him hangin' like they dangle from a noose Why you so depressing? Yeah, you killin' all the mood

Then you act mysterious like Scooby-Doo crew
And my bitch built like Rapunzel, but it's tangled up on you
I got dance x7
Dance Revolution in my pants
Pants x6
She hoppin' on me like I'm settin’ all the trends
You wanna touch me, you ain't never get the chance
This that West Wing shit, Secret Service on demand

500k for a Trackhawk Jeep
I can't fuck with hoes, all these hoes just some treesh
Bangin' on the speakers, you be bangin' on the beats
Catch me on the low, foldin’ clothes in the Bean

4 Em Both (Bonus)

#CREEPY!!! (24) prod twohvns

prod. TWOHVNS

LYRICS:

Exitallure.com
Bitch
Hey, I been rockin’ that coat of arms
I’m tweakin’ off xanny bars
And I got her on call
She take over all
She ride no handlebars
And I got a thousand broads
And they ain’t wear no bra
Swear to God I’m off

Got me feelin’ like woah
You know how that shit go
I got a thousand hoes
Yuh, and they ready to go
I ain’t finna dumb it down for all you stupid hoes
Pack yo’ bags, pack yo’ things
Yeah, you gotta go

Hey, my shit locked down
Creep around, it make no sound
Hey, play that shit loud
Play it out for the whole damn town
Hey, not lettin’ you down
Just wanna fuck around
Just wanna count amounts
Just wanna, Just wanna

I been rockin’ that coat of arms
I’m tweakin’ off xanny bars
And I got her on call
She take over all
She ride no handlebars
And I got a thousand broads
And they ain’t wear no bra
Swear to God I’m off

My diamonds encrusted
And yeah, you disgusting 
If you ran outta bitches
You ran outta money
Theres gotta be something
I skrrt off the Cadillac
I got abundance 
You gotta be dummy
I take over city
Then take hold of country
I got a whole army of troops
And they ready to fire

Steal yo’ life like the theif of the night
And my fit, I’m dressin’ all white
Yo’ bitch not actin’ alright
I swipe cards like hoes
That bitch can’t keep her legs closed
Ball on a lil’ bitch like pro
Woah, woah

I been rockin’ that coat of arms
I’m tweakin’ off xanny bars
And I got her on call
She take over all
She ride no handlebars
And I got a thousand broads
And they ain’t wear no bra
Swear to God I’m off

I swear to God I’m off, hoe
(I rock the coat of arms)
I swear to God I’m off, hoe
(I rock the coat of arms)
I swear to God, I swear to God
(The coat of arms)
I swear to, I swear to
I swear to God

COAT OF ARMS (prod. twohvns)

prod. TWOHVNS

LYRICS:

Exitallure.com
Bitch

I’m a big bag runner
She doin’ what I wanna
Count them numbers
I know ‘em by the hundreds 
Bitch act dumber
She ain’t gettin my number

Listen
Gettin’ to the bag
You know I’m countin’ racks, hoe
Whippin’ all the splash
And she call me her dad, hoe
Semi automatic
You know this shit get tragic, hoe
Do it democratic
We livin’ in the West Wing, tho

She want an ice tray
Ion know that hoe
But she do it my way
I say “Ok hoe”
But she gon’ die away
Yeah, she not for long
I might love her tho
We bangin’ off the wall

Almost lost my mind
Cuz I’m in love wit bitch
Almost cost me time
By spendin’ time with bitch
Goin’ down that line
We gon’ break a brick

I’m a big bag runner
She doin’ what I wanna
Count them numbers
I know ‘em by the hundreds 
Bitch act dumber
She ain’t gettin my number

Whatcha heard bro
2 days on my 3rd O
Flexing paper money
I know that he still broke 
I don’t leave the crib
But I buy so much damn clothes
I don’t need no bitch 
But I still like to get close
I might take her to the West Wing
When EA ain’t home
Yeah, you bought that shirt to lose it on a stretcher, hoe
This bitch said we fucked
I think that i forgot that hoe
Think I forgot that bitch
Hit you through limo tint
All that barking irrelevant 
Broke as hell, I was hittin cars
I was sellin shit
Riding round tryna find a lick
Said imma get it by any means
Imma make sure my mama rich

I’m a big bag runner
She doin’ what I wanna
Count them numbers
I know ‘em by the hundreds 
Bitch act dumber
She ain’t gettin my number

NUMBERS (feat. StevieGoyard) (prod. twohvns)

locked in prod souljaszn

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