R.E.D. - 6ix9ine, Sleiman

Ho thicker, diamonds on my neck flicker

Drug dealer, professional pot whipper

Seven figures, got your bitches fuckin' quicker

She want a picture, I tell her no, I know she bitter

Niggas cuttin' up on the internet

Fuck nigga, we ain’t into that

We end up in your crib where your family at

Got the .40 on my hip, yeah, that’s my stick, yeah

She wanna fuck for a grip, yeah, on my blick, yeah

Couple bands on my shit, yeah, I’ma rip, yeah

With the shits, yeah, that’s my clique, yeah

MAC-11, 9 milli', ridin' with it (Ridin' with it)

I’ma hit him up, I’ma fuckin' kill him (Fuckin' kill him)

Run up on him, masked with a black .40 (Black .40)

Hit 'em in his hoodie, no A Boogie

Pu-pu-pull up in the black Benz

Clip for the .9's and the MAC-10's

Beefy on the molly, niggas want my money

But when they see me coming, I can see them niggas runnin'

I see them niggas runnin'

Let them niggas act, 'cause they bitches they be lovin', yeah

Blood time, blood rhyme, nigga, this is blood line

Niggas gettin' stupid, try to get by

Pu-pu-pull up in the black Benz

Clip for the .9's and the MAC-10's

MAC-11, 9 milli', ridin' with it (Ridin' with it)

I’ma hit him up, I’ma fuckin' kill him (Fuckin' kill him)

Run up on him, masked with a black .40 (Black .40)

Hit 'em in his hoodie, no A Boogie

Sleiman

Let that shit breathe