Lyrics
Undefined huh, ayy, huh, ayy
Wouldn't trip on a bitch if I was OT
He ain't make it to the ER, left him OV
All this Off White on, I might OD
I done threw the white lows on
I got coke feet
Forty-thousand on me
Finna get a four for four
Spanish clerk and she cold
Hit her with the por favor
Had the Glock up in school
You could catch me horsing dorks
223s got the Holy Ghost
We'll send 'em towards the Lord
The opps, they'll never win
They the Clippers now
I just scammed a dumb white boy
I'm a nigger now?
They got him gassed up, huh
Boy think he Hitler now
I just want the neck
Old bitch think I miss her now
I was out in Cali tripping, fuck around
Got sunburn cut into thе lil' bitch like
"How the fuck that tongue work?"
Bеfore I pay for the shit
I gotta try a punch first
Granny smacked the shit out me
I spent thirteen on one shirt
Ran it up in Tennessee
I think I pulled a groin or something
You ain't sucking dick or
Balls? Better or something
I could probably win a split decision
How I score with punches
If you see me, I'm with BabyTron
That ain't Dora cousin
If I see an opp with the chop
I'ma boink his shit
If he think he got the plug or something
I'ma yoink his shit at this point
I walk up into Saks and I point at shit
Spike walkers with the glitter
On some flamboyant shit
I think the opps practice homosexuality
'Cause they be dick sucking
I don't know why them niggas mad at me
At the set fucking up the cheese
I'm a cavity bitch, I'm up-up
I do not believe in gravity
Bitch called me white boy
Had to fuck her with some rhythm
Why my white-ass granny always
Fucking up some chicken?
New fridge dispense Wock'
Got me slumped up in the kitchen
Going eighty in the 'Hawk, damn
My stomach got to flipping
Trackhawks, Track2s, Balenciaga track shoes
Bitch little, ass fat
I like 'em with the tattoos
I done made her cat ooze when
I made the 'Cat zoom
Unkie out there playing with them
Bricks like how Shaq do
Tryna be Kung Fu Panda? There's the bamboo
This motherfucker fucks up houses
Ask his last roof
You better not play your last song
You'd get your ass booed
Been a motherfucking skywalker
You can ask Luke
I can kick his ass with it 'cause
The chop got a leg on it
Bitch, when I whip this motherfucker out
Put yo head on it
Funny how we caught him in his Charger
Left him dead on it
Bro really cut with that Glock
He done bled on it
You thinking 'bout that lil' bitch
She thinking 'bout me
Bitch, I'm thinking 'bout the money
That's the thing about me
You could be a Hungry Howie
Still wouldn't think about cheese
Why the fuck all summer I
Was thinking 'bout sleeves?
Mama said get a job
I was thinking 'bout Steve
Kinda wanna get a Porsche
I be thinking 'bout speed
It's a button in this fucker
I ain't thinking 'bout keys
In that rusty-ass Honda
Boy thinking that he Dee
Mask on, not 'cause Corona
This bitch breath stank
If the flash hit him
He gon' have to get a x ray
Cool kid stunting on 'em
Throw me in the X-Games roman Reigns chop
Do a move and watch his neck break
Feel like Elvis with the Loubs on
I'm a flashy fuck
Smack for some jacks then I go
And pick the package up
He got hit up top with the chop
He should've Daffy Ducked
Sick this two man plan like
We ain't actually up
PUBLISHERS
Lyrics © EMPIRE PUBLISHING
See A Problem With Something?
Lyrics
Other
