About the song
A story for this song hasn’t been added yet.
Words from the artist’s archive
Code 305/954 lyrics
Artist-supplied lyric sheet, matched by title. The sheet may differ from this released performance. Production notes and alternate promotional cuts are omitted.
Read the lyric sheet
Intro
Section three-oh-five slash nine-five-four. Subsection sus: If it only happens when the camera light red, it does not count. Bump, trunk knock, waves.
Verse 1
At the gas station, two pumps broke, one speaker blown, Jit says he got motion with a charger on loan. Corner store clerk know who pays and who posts, Who buys one drink, who says, “put his on those.” Beach lot full, towels on the roof of the coupe, Slides by the curb, somebody arguing truth. Club line wrapped by the palm with the rain still ticking, Bouncer reads shoes like case law written. Flex is clean when the receipt got weight, Sus is loud with no name on the plate. Clout is when auntie says, “I know his people,” Corny is filming the tip before you feed ’em.
Pre-chorus
Flex or sus, say it with your chest. Clout or corny, let the sidewalk test.
Chorus
Code three-oh-five, nine-five-four, Flex or sus? Tell me what you came for. Clout or corny? We can smell that smoke. Guap ain’t gold if your people can’t go. Code three-oh-five, nine-five-four, Talk too big, get taxed at the door. Guap ain’t just money, it’s a midnight ride, Who still answers when the card declines.
Verse 2
Rental with the temp tag, talking like a yacht owner, Chain got shine but the clasp say loaner. Stolen drip don’t sit right on the shoulder, Flash twenty twice, now the whole room colder. Bought three bottles, left the tab in panic, Called it generosity, waiter called mechanics. Camera-only hugs, camera-only prayers, Soon as flash dies, empty folding chairs. Fake flex got mildew under all that gloss, You can hear the lease creak when he calls himself boss. Real one move quiet through the rain on chrome, Pays the auntie’s light bill, never brings it home.
Pre-chorus
Flex or sus, say it with your chest. Clout or corny, let the sidewalk test.
Chorus
Code three-oh-five, nine-five-four, Flex or sus? Tell me what you came for. Clout or corny? We can smell that smoke. Guap ain’t gold if your people can’t go. Code three-oh-five, nine-five-four, Talk too big, get taxed at the door. Guap ain’t just money, it’s a midnight ride, Who still answers when the card declines.
Verse 3
I’m Tanner from Toledo with a U-Haul dent, Said “that’s gas” at the pump, everybody went silent. Thought “jit” was a snack from the corner-store rack, Called the club line “cute,” got side-eyed back. I wore socks to the sand, asked where the shade at, Said “my guap is fine,” showed a banking app. They laughed so hard that the trunk stopped knocking, One girl said, “Bless him, he still unpacking.” I thought clout meant followers, blue check, link, They said clout is who picks up before you think. I said “sus” too early at the wrong card table, Now I read the room like a cable bill label.
Bridge
Translation skit: Flex is proof, not volume. Sus is smoke with no fire. Clout is your name good when you not there. Corny is forcing the caption. Guap is options, gas, food, bond money, and somebody solid in your recent calls.
Verse 4
Now we back on Broward rain with the windows cracked, Where a real one pays and don’t mention that. Where the uncle with the cooler got everybody fed, Where the cousin with the Civic gives rides instead. Where a receipt in the visor means more than a chain, Where a quiet cash app hits before you explain. Who shows at court? Who waits outside? Who brings clean clothes when pride gets fried? That’s guap with a pulse, not a stack for the lens, That’s clout when your enemies trust you with friends. That’s flex when your people sleep better that night, That’s law in the lot under sodium light.
Verse 5
Beach parking lot, trunk bass low, Flip-flops, wet seats, styrofoam glow. Somebody freestyling statute numbers in smoke, Somebody laughing at a transplant joke. Moon on the hood like a quarter in foil, Salt on the lip, rain coming off oil. Every slang word got fingerprints on it, Every side-eye got a whole court docket. We don’t overteach, we just point at the scene, The curb, the tab, the ride, the screen. Home is a code you learn by staying, Bump, trunk knock, everybody saying
Pre-chorus
Flex or sus, say it with your chest. Clout or corny, let the sidewalk test.
Chorus
Code three-oh-five, nine-five-four, Flex or sus? Tell me what you came for. Clout or corny? We can smell that smoke. Guap ain’t gold if your people can’t go. Code three-oh-five, nine-five-four, Talk too big, get taxed at the door. Guap ain’t just money, it’s a midnight ride, Who still answers when the card declines.
Outro
Waves on the bumper, car doors close. Bump, trunk knock, code.
Inside the recording
Section three-oh-five slash nine-five-four. Subsection sus:
Flex or sus, say it with your chest. Clout or corny, let the sidewalk test.
Waves on the bumper, car doors close. Bump, trunk knock, code.
Excerpts from artist-supplied lyric files matched by title. Lyric sheets may differ from the released performance.