Referee - Yhung T.O., DaBoii

Now days all these bitches want me for some fame

That’s why I don’t trust 'em I just pass 'em to the gang

We be slidin' through them jets where you niggas don’t hang

If a nigga want smoke then that’s what we gon' bring

And I’ma die for my respect

Slidin', gang members hoppin' out with' TECs

Nigga, I’ma die for my respect

Slidin', gang members hoppin' out with' TECs

What you know about pain?

Never met a referee that couldn’t tell me 'bout the game

I lost my nigga to some gunshots

Now we slidin' tryna make a nigga lungs stop

I know my grandma hurtin' 'cause she lost her son

And the cops wonder why a nigga got a gun

I know my momma worried 'bout her son

But these niggas know it momma I am not the one

We ain’t tripin' off no nerds

Nigga make a move, we ain’t trippin' off no words

Bitch I got money, I ain’t trippin' off yo' purse

And the Lord know my heart so I ain’t trippin' off no church

I ain’t trippin' off no sins that I know that I committed

I ain’t trippin' off the pen

Thinkin' shit a game, you ain’t trippin' off yo' head

Brodie bro be off them drugs, he be trippin' off the meg

They say I wear my heart on my shoulder

Now straight up in the wind so my heart got colder

Say they want me dead, gotta watch for the vultures

You niggas never emptying them guns you just loader

I try to tell DaBoii keep your eyes open

They gon' try an knock you off so keep that iron on you

'Cause I rather slide with' you not to slide for you

And keep killin' on the verses 'cause we countin' on you

Now days all these bitches want me for some fame

That’s why I don’t trust 'em I just pass 'em to the gang

We be slidin' through them jets where you niggas don’t hang

If a nigga want smoke then that’s what we gon' bring

And I’ma die for my respect

Slidin', gang members hoppin' out with' TECs

Nigga, I’ma die for my respect

Slidin', gang members hoppin' out with' TECs

What you know about pain?

Never met a referee that couldn’t tell me 'bout the game

I lost my nigga to some gunshots

Now we slidin' tryna make a nigga lungs stop

I know my grandma hurtin' 'cause she lost her son

And the cops wonder why a nigga got a gun

I know my momma worried 'bout her son

But these niggas know it momma I am not the one

I’ma die for my respect

Slidin' gang members hoppin' out with' TECs

Up top aimin' ain’t no reason for a vest

What we spent on these guns half of y’all would be in debt

So stop talkin' like you slidin' when you know you ain’t that dumb

Try and take my chain naw bitch I ain’t for none

With' this Glock 27, I’ll take a nigga lung

Heard niggas want beef, I’ll cater it for fun

We ain’t playin' with' you niggas, might as well stop talkin'

Fuck coppin' pleas lil' nigga stop callin'

Broke ass nigga, find a hustle, start ballin'

We want all the smoke yeah bitch we wan’t all it

Over T.O.

bitch I’m trippin' long clip Scottie Pippin

Speakin' on lil' brodie you gon' have to pay a visit

All up in yo' section, I ain’t askin' for permission

Bullets with' my name on it pussy nigga come and send it

Bitch!

Now days all these bitches want me for some fame

That’s why I don’t trust 'em I just pass 'em to the gang

We be slidin' through them jets where you niggas don’t hang

If a nigga want smoke then that’s what we gon' bring

And I’ma die for my respect

Slidin', gang members hoppin' out with' TECs

Nigga, I’ma die for my respect

Slidin', gang members hoppin' out with' TECs

What you know about pain?

Never met a referee that couldn’t tell me 'bout the game

I lost my nigga to some gunshots

Now we slidin' tryna make a nigga lungs stop

I know my grandma hurtin' 'cause she lost her son

And the cops wonder why a nigga got a gun

I know my momma worried 'bout her son

But these niggas know it momma I am not the one