It's fucking ackrite

Question is – can I get some? Know what I'm saying?

Ack-rite, bitch

When I see you in the spot, you just act right, you know what I'm saying?

When I yank you by the fucking arm

Don't be looking at a nigga crazy

Just give up the digits and be the fuck out, you know what I'm saying?

Let me break it down for y'all

It was just one of those days

When I wanted to catch sun rays

It's fun to gitt blunted on a Sunday afternoon

Nigga Bathed and got groomed, grabbed the gat for misbehaviors

And the chocolate flavored boom, lost in hip-hop tunes

Zoom-zoom like the Commodores

Wonder will we have drama or, end up clowning whores

Round up four good-to-go girls

Like them Barbary Coast girls, riding shotgun, baby

I be posting all-world in the ride

Sipping 151 done gave me too much pride to back down

Soon as we get to The Beach I'mma put my fucking mack down

I'm playing lead, not the background

It's time to put Bronson on the map now

Walk with my hand on my Johnson, crack a smile

Cuties peep my style, if I don't get some ackrite

I'mma have to ack-wild

Blunt in my left hand, drink in my right

Strap by my waistline, cause niggas don't fight

Sucker free for life, so you better think twice

(Aight? And a give a nig' some ackrite)

I'm the type of nigga player-haters don't like

Snatching up your honey for some late night hype

And snobby-ass bitches get slapped out of spite

(Aight? So give a nig' some ackrite, right)

Uh drink kicking in, I'm stimulated

For those that don't know big words: I'm fucking faded

Eighty-three degrees, ease to a shaded spot

Our first spot was cool till some gangsters made it hot

Now we plot and pose

Plus we watching hoes, with lots of flesh exposed

Getting swarmed by those type of niggas

With no game but brown-nose

So I impose only like pros can

"Yo, is this your man?" "No."

Grab the bitch's hand, "I'm Hittman."

Bling! Gold-chain gleam

"You're very eligible for my summer league team."

Maybe too extreme cause the sister got steamed

Then Miss Thing tried to scream on my brethren

I got mad, spit phlegm on the name

Stefan, tattooed on her arm

Ho you ain't the bomb, must be a dyke

Gitcho' lips swoll, or give a nig' some ackrite

Blunt in my left hand, drink in my right

Strap by my waistline, cause niggas don't fight

Sucker free for life, so you better think twice

(And a give a nig' some ackrite)

I'm the type of nigga player-haters don't like

Snatching up your honey for some late night hype

And snobby-ass bitches get slapped out of spite

(So give a nig' some ackrite, right)

Fronting on the ack-rite, causing me to act up

Good Samaritans save that ho from getting slapped up

My homies crack up at the scene I made

Yo my actions ain't serene when a nigga's on fade

If it wasn't for the one-time brigade

I woulda sprayed at the hooker tramp

As cops parade I'm afraid it's time to break camp

Make tracks, where else can we go to take hoes

From fake macks? Aiyyo, chase them girls

In that black Maxima, the passenger, almost fractured her

Neckbone, looking back at us

Plus, they on the dick cause the Caddy's plush

They blush, I bumrush the huss, with the largest crush

Try to swing an EP tonight so I don't have to keep in touch

Keep it on hush without the tipping

Macking interrupted by some niggas set-tripping

Clip in the strap, I showed these niggas how to act