(Intro) Man got the drop, you get the vibe, the ting is active and fully aggressive, innit. This Moncler Maya jacket on the block is pure drip, the whole mandem looks attractive.
(Verse 1) The Moncler Maya drip is absolutely leng, manna got the skeng for the opps and the low-key pagans. I catch a pagan slippin' in the yard, then the mash buss the dots and we duppy the whole scene. We circle the ends in the stolen whip, skrr past the fed's, wallahi they lookin' all bait and confused. The trapline hummin' with z's and grub, my darg's pushin' serious weight—it’s a constant mazza. You know the score's massive, paper is stackin', I'm bussin' down the ting with no fear of the jakes or the law. They chat 'n' bore all day, they try to switch up, and talk crud on the net, so the ching is gonna swing when we link up. I'm not tekky, I just move smart, this designer jacket cost a heavy rack—don't try to violate the rules. If you step on this turf without respect, you get the full smoke, fam, it’s peak and we stay completely certified.
(Verse 2) This Moncler is lined with bands and extra P, I lick every single plug for the supply, never a nitty move. If a cat or a neek or a bine try to violate, they'll get the full splash and be gone by the time the sun rises. It's a mad ting, the way I flip this whipper, watch me move O.T., always avoiding the feds and their traps. We don't talk to the pigs, man, they're the biggest jokers on the road; they're always tryna' kettle the bruddas for nothing. My young Gs are moving shy, got the shank concealed under the fresh Moncler sleeve—always ready for the tussle. When the beef is cookin', man, we make sure that the opps don't leave; we don't cotch until the whole job is done. Don't get it twisted, fam, this life's no joke, so you better pattern up or you'll catch a case and get a fresh stripe. I stay low, stack my cheese, and make sure the whole crew is fed—this is the authentic G life, no cap, you understand the tings.
(Verse 3) I'm wavy now, no more wasteman talk, the broke days are dead and gone, wallahi, I left that life behind. I bought the Moncler Maya with heavy doe, now my bruddas are all styling, we can link up and flex without issues. Man like me don't trust the jakes, I got my shank and my bally on lock, I don't follow their weak plan, I just watch the money spin. If you're movin' loose, you're a goof, get a clue, you'll end up on a stripe; that's the massive risk you take in the ends daily. I'm just tryna' secure the bag, get the racks and the doe, and live the true G life; the whole operation is fully active. This expensive garms is solid proof I'm the top dog now, fully certified by the streets, the hierarchy is established. The Moncler Maya's the uniform, it's the logo, the vibe, the pride—everybody knows the score and respects the logo. I'm too gassed, got the drop on the next move, Jagga Bootz Media on the ting, and I'm gone O.T., fam, tell the rest to link up.
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