That's why I swear man, we rockin' the name Griselda [?] everyday. Ain't no point of rockin' no other brand, cause our shit flyer than their shit anyway

Qué poco queda...
Qué poco queda...

Griselda, by Fashion Rebels

On the road to the riches, tri-colored Benz's with interest
Balmain moto, eatin' Sotto Sotto
Cuban links, bolo enter your head, polo for dolo
Gunshots Manolo, poppin' PJ when I show doe
Coke prices so-so, 40 for a whole dough
[?] in the microwave, fried rice nice
The greens was creased, Jesus piece [?] spinnin'
Seems like the lames ain't want to knock no more, Glock in jaw
[?] a nigga knock it off, top his Porche
Kick in your door, son's special, we'll wet you
All red Ralph lookin' like the Devil, we fly niggas
Tell Donna yo we got her, Prada rockers
Garlic butter on the chops and lobsters
Ran hammers like [?] Sanders
You know the grammar glammer, hid the nine in the hamper
(Doo doo doo doo doo doo doo doo)

Yeah, it's all real nigga, look
All I need is a gun and key
A kush trap where I can see brick money from keys
I don't fuck with these rap niggas, now they gunnin' for me
You wouldn't even be familiar if it wasn't for me
You can't even fuck with the shit I don't write
I got hit in the head, I'm blinkin' everything on sight
That's on God nigga, I ain't finna fight
I'ma put out your lights and I ain't even have to hit you twice
Same clip, I ain't reload
Niggas use the sack to justify not livin' by the G code
Regardless of how much bread in your stash
That won't stop a junkie from findin' your head in the trash
I'll send a shooter to your residence fast
Wavin' the Wesson with the vest and a mask
Like, "where the rest of the cash?"
Look, reject back from hell, hit the wax, inhale
Clap your shell, Griselda jack you with the Taxi 12's, Conway

Qué poco queda...
Qué poco queda...
Qué poco queda...

Griselda

Hey fam, I'm the king of New York, king of the [?]
I'm the king when it comes to puttin' guns in your mouth