Dope Man Flex

It‘s Saint baby, flow makes money! Bumping, flexing, like a rap mummy. West coast ya‘ll bitches rap like dummies, ain‘t no competition with me when I got the strap on me. I did it, ain‘t no chemistry or physics (Business) You know my shit so dope when I spit it I ain’t gotta fake shit ‘cause my gang really with it Make them low riders jump when we in it And I gotta say Cut the crap, cut the check The bass go boom that’s a bet (Raw flex) We high as f*ck chilling no stress Made it straight outta nothing that’s a dope man flex And I see alotta haters Some punks and some fakers They tryna play us out but they can’t fade us We going in homie like invaders I rip up the spot then drop tracks for paper And not to even mention I do my own shit, classic beats from another dimension You can call me boss, bitches tryna get attention You know we raw, and we based on perfection And I gotta say Cut the crap, cut the check The bass go boom that’s a bet (Raw flex) We high as f*ck chilling no stress Made it straight outta nothing that’s a dope man flex