Dead Shoto, Dyre - New Flex, Who Dis? Lyrics

New flex, who this
All up in my bag making money so I'm rich
Had to cop a Jag money bag didn't fit
Make it rain bad hail storm on the wrist, yuh
Rolex, no tick
Got your bitch saying I'm her number one pick
Ride or die clique pull up in the space ship
Hit your ramen noodle with a pair of chop sticks

No way, no way
Hit you with the Bowflex make you go away
Haters they get no say with they low pay
Little drummer boy go spray I'ma go OJ
Ok, heater on my waist it go both ways
Hitting everybody cold blooded like a snow day
Cover up the evidence body full of propane
Wipe the boy nose like he fucking with some cocaine, rah
Brand new Beamer maybe a two seater
I don't really know the Hell Cat looking cleaner
Did a misdemeanor back then in Pasadena
Kill the pussy boy somebody call peta
Hello señorita, really nice to meet ya
Turn her to a eater she my number one skeeter
Big body bag turn you into a believer
Puffing on the reefer with the homie grim reaper

New flex, who this
All up in my bag making money so I'm rich
Had to cop a Jag money bag didn't fit
Make it rain bad hail storm on the wrist, yuh
Rolex, no tick
Got your bitch saying I'm her number one pick
Ride or die clique pull up in the space ship
Hit your ramen noodle with a pair of chop sticks

I won't stop myself from drowning
In these drugs they all around me
Pop three more I'm feeling drowsy
Won't go back these drugs surround me
Bitch I feel worthless so I might go purchase shit
So on the surface they think that I'm worth a shit
Don't have a purpose I been the disturbance
I know one things certain I'm closing the curtains
Trying to feel like a zombie
So imma pop all this molly
I wish I trusted somebody
I'm takin drugs as a hobby
I might pass out in the lobby
Don't got a person to stop me
Now I cannot feel my body
At least I got money on me