Mood lyrics

[Intro]
(I dont see how you can drive something crazy like that, man)
Yeah, it's a mood
Real Rx, yeah, yeah

[Verse]
Baby said, "Who you gon' walk in this b*tch like today?"
Walk in this b*tch like I'm Flava Flav
Busta Rhymes these big ass chains
Get higher then Wiz on "Paper Planes"
b*tch, I'm higher than a paper plane
Shoot a n*gga 'bout my chain like Gucci Mane
These Cartiers, not Gucci frames
Shootin' like the n*gga on Notre Dame
Bound to get soaked when you play in the rain
Hundred round Drac', can you stand the reign?
High as f*ck like Max Payne
Two guns on me like Max Payne
Pop a 30 when I'm goin' through max pain
Pull up, black Audi like Bruce Wayne
Hit the corner, make that b*tch swang
She like, "Put that weed out, that sh*t stank"
I walk in this b*tch like the big bank
I don't drink Yak, I sip drank
Ben Wallace when I'm in the paint
High as f*ck when I'm in the bank
Glick hit a n*gga and his lil' cousin
AR bigger than DeMarcus Cousins
I dont wear YSL but, b*tch, I'm thuggin'
These n*ggas hatin' like Joe Budden
I really could cook a controlled substance
I really will serve you a whole onion
I'm really in the Audi, hundred miles runnin'
Sport mode, 150, I'm finna gun it
If I gave you a hundred, you still couldn't be a hundred
Chris Brown with the Glock make you runnin'
Let me come in
Baby Drac' sound like it's mumblin'
When he got hit look like he started krumpin'
It's springs in the floor, this b*tch jumpin'
Up the Glick if I see him jumpin'
Punch you back-to-back like I'm punch in
.556 go through a n*gga crunches
Auntie call me her pumpkin
She owe me fifteen from a bundle
She said, "Pap, let me slide, boy, I love you"
When I'm in the hood, do what I wanna do
Pistol on me, b*tch, I'm comfortable
Leave the Audi runnin' 'cause I'm comfortable
It's Bloods on my block, I'm still comfortable
Trey G pulled up in a Benz
I told him let's race and get it in
East Sleeze shootin' dice, told him, "Jump in"
He said, "f*ck that, I rather hit licks"
Whenever I'm in the hood, it get lit
I wish a n*gga would think I'ma lit
Up the raw, bust you in ya sh*t
f*ck 'em all, they can suck a di*k
Ballin' on these n*ggas like Vince
n*ggas move like Pac in Above the Rim
Ballin' on these n*ggas above the rim
Took off my white 1s and put on my Timbs
Swag in my bag, this not drip
I wake up and get fresh as sh*t
These n*ggas wake up depressed as sh*t
Tryna figure out the mess they in
Me and my b*tch go through domestic sh*t
At the end of the day, my b*tch is my b*tch
n*ggas copy everything I did
But real n*ggas know what the f*ck it is