HiTek Tek

(ATL Jacob, ATL Jacob) Freeband Gang

Yeah, yeah

Hi-tech Tech, yeah, yeah

Big ol' jet, yeah, yeah

Big ass TEC, yeah, yeah

Big ass bitch, yeah, yeah

Thick lil' shit, yeah, yeah

I'm gettin' my money, yeah, yeah

I'm gettin' this rich, yeah, yeah

Straight out the crib, yep

I'm straight out the trench, yep

I'm straight out the trench, yep

I'm straight out the trench, yep

The trench of the trench (Woo)

The drank on the floor

I started out poor

But not no more

Hop in that go, go, go, Ghost, I'm on go-mode

We drivin' every single car you want, send in the dope, ho

She like to ride when I go jugg, I got a dope ho

Make me sing to your bitch, K-Ci, JoJo

Every day, every night, go to the moon

All of my niggas geeked up in the room

Paradise, shoot my one and two

Astronaut takin' off, I got the proof, yeah

Perky medics, yeah, yeah

Head from Becky, yeah, yeah

Gold baguetties, yeah, yeah

Gold Prezi', yeah, yeah

I be down in Houston like Kareem, I'm a Rocket

Drank the drank and popped a couple beans, now I'm cocky

Came through the game and took that shit like I was robbin'

Chain rings, earrings, please proceed with cautions

Courtside, I'm sittin' at the game with a Glock in my pocket

All my niggas bang, brr, clear out the cartridge

Go inside of Chanel store and start poppin'

I told you, I'm rollin' off a bean like Scotty

Yeah, yeah

Hi-tech Tech, yeah, yeah

Big ol' jet, yeah, yeah (big ol' jet)

Big ass TEC, yeah, yeah

Big ass bitch, yeah, yeah (big ass bitch)

Thick lil' shit, yeah, yeah

I'm gettin' my money, yeah, yeah (Hi-Tech Tech)

I'm gettin' this rich, yeah, yeah

I'm straight out the crib

I'm straight out the trench, yep

I'm straight out the trench

I'm straight out the trench, yep

The trench of the trench, woo

The drank on the floor

I started out poor

But not no more

Yeah, I fill up a cup with that red and I know it might kill me (Hi-Tech Tech)

I throwed on the animal print and it got me bougie

I sold my coke in the cold, the sweater was Coogi

I can't forget my bros, we make a zoovie

I am not supposed to be fuckin' these bitches, they jockin' my dick on the low

I got her on lean, woo, I got her on beans, woo

She down to my team, man, I'm cuttin' up a ring, man

Fully loaded magazines, shout out to the gangland

And I can't even sleep

I been already geeked for seven days

Put the wood on that Banshee

I position her more than seven ways

I got black cards and Visas, I'm gettin' paid

I'm sittin' in the dark, ain't got shades

Take all the tablets and go to space

Hi-tech Tech, yeah, yeah

Hi-tech Tech, yeah, yeah

Big ol' jet, yeah, yeah (big ol' jet)

Big ass TEC, yeah, yeah

Big ass bitch, yeah, yeah (big ol' bitch)

Thick lil' shit, yeah, yeah

I'm gettin' my money, yeah, yeah (Hi-Tech Tech)

I'm gettin' this rich, yeah, yeah

Hi-tech Tech

Hi-tech Tech, Hi-Tech Tech (yeah, yeah)

Hi-tech Tech (yeah, yeah)