G.T., Street Lord Juan, Los - Jack & a Press lyrics

(Olympic)
Ayy, what's the numbers on it? yeah
(Damn, Flaw, this what I been prayin' for)
Chill, chill, nigga, yeah nigga, yeah
What's the numbers on it?
Pussy-ass niggas, ain't got no love for 'em

Fifty box of Ziplocs packed in a 'Vette
(What else?) a strap and a vest (What else?)
A jack and a press (Uh, huh)
Fifty box of Ziplocs packed in a 'Vette
(What else?) a strap and a vest (What else?)
A jack and a press

My mans called my phone talkin' 'bout
"What's the numbers on it?"
Do you got some fuckin' money or
Just know who want 'em?
Boy, I can throw you somethin'
Cookin' class, show you somethin'
Drought season, pandemic
Like how much work can you handle?
Like call it what you want
Don't call me if it ain't 'bout money
One phone call'll have my young
Nigga waitin' on you
Razorblade in a plate or somethin'
Cut up a kilo smack my mans in the head with
A brick like he Deebo
I might fight like a man
I been whippin' all day
I'm kinda close to a ticket
How many trips it's gon' take?
I'm like fuck it, I'm straight, knee deep
I tell myself keep goin'
I was cookin' niggas' bids, now
I get paid to perform, nigga

Fifty box of Ziplocs packed in a 'Vette
(What else?) a strap and a vest (What else?)
A jack and a press (Uh, huh)
Fifty box of Ziplocs packed in a 'Vette
(What else?) a strap and a vest (What else?)
A jack and a press

I'm talkin' 'bout my hands numb
I been countin' a check
I'm threadin' them bales
I ain't take one risk
Got a bird in my right hand
Got one on my left
Wrist forty alone, it can get par for a brick
On the road, lil' nigga
We only stoppin' to piss
I ain't take one loss
I know my haters is sick
Quick to double the pros
Blow some on my bitch movin' so much weight
But not the one that you bench
Gotta use a lil' strength
Fuck around with the press
I walked in, cuz like Montana
Coke all on the desk
After you blend this shit, lil' nigga
Let this shit rest
Come take it to a small town
We show you how to invest

Fifty box of Ziplocs packed in a 'Vette
(What else?) a strap and a vest (What else?)
A jack and a press (Uh, huh)
Fifty box of Ziplocs packed in a 'Vette
(What else?) a strap and a vest (What else?)
A jack and a press (Okay)

If you know Juan, then you know I'm
Tied in from Chuco Town to Russo shop
On 7 Mile and Beland, got my boots on knot
For dancin' on a quarter ton
Of that mucho cob a different cash type
Grew up livin' fast life
Bag life, four freight liners
Duckin' flashlights
Flood the red zone 'fore it was a red zone
The feds know all my
Opposition got a headstone
Nigga, all fact, no cap
Before rap, playin' with tickets, all trap
No rap
Just got out the feds, and I'm back on trap
Came home the right way, nigga
No trap, no rattin', nigga

Fifty box of Ziplocs packed in a 'Vette
(What else?) a strap and a vest (What else?)
A jack and a press (Uh, huh)
Fifty box of Ziplocs packed in a 'Vette
(What else?) a strap and a vest (What else?)
A jack and a press (Okay)