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[Intro: Jack Harlow & Machine Gun Kelly]
Yo what up man?
Send me that instrumental real quick
Which one?
“What’s Poppin’”
Alright got you right now
Yessir, let’s go

What’s poppin’?
Just fucked my ex, I rawed it
Two X in the mushroom chocolate
Two X on neck, I’m frostbit
Stay dressin’, no balsamic
Got commas Comme des Garcon’d it
Cup got ice cubes like Compton
Chef Nobu, cook me raw fish

Long beards but the squad’s not Amish
Just bosses, dropouts and convicts
Wallets bigger than Chris Wallace
Dead presidents inside, it’s haunted
Yellow tape where I’m from, stay cautious
Made mixtapes wearin’ shirts with the horses
It’s been a minute since I gave a fuck about a critic’s
Opinion but they keep on forgettin’ where the bars went
Old-timers, damn, y’all got Alzheimer’s?
Can’t say what your subconscious think
Be honest y’all hate that I switch genres
Fuck models, switch condoms
Eat beef like McDonald’s
Eat rappers, Jeff Dahmer
Top five of the young rhymers
Been sick, no virus
I’m an OG now, I do not pay homage
Look, I’m a Cleveland Cavalier
Drivin’ foreign engineer
At the Fashion Week in Paris
Cinderella on my terrace
Glass slipper on the stairs
Ass fatter than Shakira’s
I saw her live at the Super Bowl
I was in town for a movie role
Toosie Slide in the booty hole
Smokin’ woods, eatin’ tuna roll
Playing cards like its Yu-Gi-Oh!
And I was only in the studio
I wake up, I’m moody, I roll up some fruity
That have more colors than a Coogi coat
I’m not a rapper that talk ’bout designer
But this is from Virgil and Louis though
Inside my closet’s a million options, I put on all black like a funeral
I hop out the plane in pajamas, I do this shit daily, I don’t even plan it, woah

What’s poppin’?
Just fucked my ex, I rawed it
Two X in the mushroom chocolate
Two X on neck, I’m frostbit
Two eggs with cheese and sausage on the bed, she fed me topless

Three X’s next to the names of the last three hoes on my missed call list, yeah
Yeah, red eyes I can’t see clear, whoa
Whoa, my bricks so white, they glow, damn
Damn, she made an OnlyFans, ugh
Ugh, can write my life in book
I’m back to my old ways, I been—
Alright, fuck it I’m good