Back When 2.0

I don’t drink no more bro (Aye) It’s Young Genre Aye, turn me up (Yea yea yea yea yea) I remember back when I was still the Running Man Back then, it was f*ck bitches, stack 100 grand To this day, I’m on the same shit and they don’t understand Rather put it on the card ‘fore I put it on the gram aye ‘Member n****s tried to tell me what I can’t say Now they shook when they find out who I am aye If it ain’t Genre, give a f*ck ‘bout what they saying aye ‘Cause I do what I want, you do what you can aye I ain’t playing don’t you be around me playing aye And f*ck you cappin’ ass n****s on the gram aye Hop up on the stage n****s learn the hard way Why you rapping sweet? This ain’t no motherfuckin’ broadway I’m a beast, I’m on autopilot always I body beats and these bitches on my off days Check the stars on the pants, them designer My bitch bad, n****s look like, Where you find her? aye I done had a dozen of ‘em, never mind her yea I’ma hit it from the back and make her spine hurt aye Boy I’m back up on your head, I make your mind hurt N****s tryna pop, they don’t know ‘bout how the grind work Aye show no love to other side Bitch we good, we don’t know about them other guys ‘Member high school eyes always bloody red Now, I’d rather smoke a rapper leave ‘em dead instead I remember back when I was still the Running Man Back then, it was f*ck bitches, stack 100 grand To this day, I’m on the same shit and they don’t understand Rather put it on the card ‘fore I put it on the gram aye ‘Member n****s tried to tell me what I can’t say Now they shook when they find out who I am aye If it ain’t Genre, give a f*ck ‘bout what they saying aye ‘Cause I do what I want, you do what you can aye I ain’t playing don’t you be around me playing aye And f*ck you cappin’ ass n****s on the gram aye Hop up on the stage n****s learn the hard way Why you rapping sweet? This ain’t no motherfuckin’ broadway Yeah, where the motherfuckin Rozay Yeah, I need a brand new pair of Dolces And for that n***a wanna throw shade I hit his girl, then I seen them at Chipotle I swear (Whoo, whoo) Aye, so you dumb too Only thing that really matters what I thumb through Brodi got a son, guess I got a son too F*ck with them and you get hit up with the one two I swear (Yeah) But it’s still no love to the other side Bitch we good, we don’t know about them other guys ‘Member high school, eyes always bloody red Now, I’d rather smoke a rapper, leave ‘em dead instead Baby I’ma different man when I’m in the booth Tried to tell ‘em I don’t think they really get it, ooh Y’all worried ‘bout a bird, while we chasin’ bags Send them shots, I’ll be damned we don’t send ‘em back So you dumb too