"Harriet Tubman" lyrics

His bitch ass brought a gun, he think he tough, he ain't even test it
We gon' shoot him and his bitch, just so they can get the message
We the youngest in the city, gettin' money and still wreckin'
In the rental, cruisin', thirty racks on me, I'm no pedestrian, nigga
How you gettin' money? You ain't bail out or beat the case
I'm the one that told 'em bring his head back and leave his face
I told my driver don't pull over, they gon' charge us anyway
We got three ratchets, four stars, lil' bro still beat the chase
I be with them killers, pull up shootin' shit just like a visual
I be in the field tryna score a touchdown like George Kittle
Granny asked me what's that on my wrist, I said an icicle
Only thing I ever wanted was some cash and a McLaren
Ayy, broski shoot this shit up, why these niggas keep on starin'?
In the Louis store out in New York, cashin' out like RJ Barrett
If this rap shit don't work, fuck it, you know I can hustle
I done built a new road for all my niggas like I'm Harriet Tubman