3 Headed Goat (feat. Lil Baby & Polo G)

These ain’t no Guess jeans

I dropped out of school, I’m still good at math

But, nigga, don’t test me

I play to the left, they went to the right

They try to finesse me

Still riding ’round with that blicky, I hope they don’t catch me

Police had raided our spot so we went to the next street

Play like I’m dumb, as soon as he pop, I’m goin’ retarded

He say I’m hot and he say I’m garbage, I’m rich regardless

We in Miami in the middle of the winter, and we on them jet skis

Then we in Atlanta, I’m runnin’ the cat and workin’ the red key

I cannot mention my homies inside of my song

’Cause I know they be trappin’ a lot

I can’t keep takin’ these pills

When I’m in the trenches they say I be cappin’ a lot

I know a nigga who say he got rich off the dope

But I know he be actin’ a lot

I know some nigga who said

That they took down the city but nigga be lackin’ a lot

Yeah

That shit was awful, nigga had that dog food

The day they shot you, I slid on a Mongoose

You cannot come back around me

You turned your back on me, I cannot forget

The police was lyin’, they say

That they caught you, but nigga, they made you admit

Your name was found, you put in that work

They took your stick, you a bitch

Fuck my opps, they be on my dick

They all be mad we rich (Turn up)

Only twenty-five, livin’ like a boss, riding ’round with a chauffeur

I don’t sell drugs, still be paranoid, keep lookin’ over my shoulder

Nigga lyin’ like I’m stealin’ swag but it’s my shit like I wrote it

Uh

These rappers really nice as hell

I’m a different nigga when I’m pissed off

Man, he say he gon’ press up on who?

I’ma get the steel like I’m Chris Paul

Back to back suburbans, I’m a big dawg

I was in the slums servin’ Fentanyls

I be laying junkies havin’ withdrawals

I been gettin’ to it, lotta missed calls

Turn it off, what the fuck is he talking ’bout?

I should slap you for sayin’ he hot as me

I don’t know who could fuck with me honestly

They know I’m the man so they watchin’ me

Different color bands like Monopoly

Man, he must not be usin’ his head

If he thinkin’ I don’t keep a Glock with me

That’s like suicide if you play with us

Got a better chance at the lottery

Call an ambulance when that chopper sweep

Make the crowd dance, choreography

Once I got a plan, ain’t no stoppin’ me

Three-car garage, million-dollar crib

With a foreign bitch ridin’ on top me

Lotta people done said I wouldn’t be shit

Well, I guess they owe me an apology

These ain’t no Guess jeans

I dropped out of school, I’m still good at math

But, nigga, don’t test me

I play to the left, they went to the right

They try to finesse me

Still riding ’round with that blicky, I hope they don’t catch me

Police had raided our spot so we went to the next street

Play like I’m dumb, as soon as he pop, I’m goin’ retarded

He say I’m hot and he say I’m garbage, I’m rich regardless

We in Miami in the middle of the winter, and we on them jet skis

Then we in Atlanta, I’m runnin’ the cat and workin’ the red key