Lyrics

You don't know how it feel We expose the fake from the real All this cash, man, I don't need the roads But I still stay out here for the thrill Said she ain't a hoe, baby girl, that's cap But we let her roll 'cause she make it clap Team too real, when the feds ask questions We don't even know where we hid them waps Don't ask what happened (oi) All I know 'bout no comment (oi) Bag of these clowns in the comments When I see them in flesh, not on it This ting wanna fuck but my wap no diet If you won't hold it, stop tryin' (mmm-mm) It bangs that pop but it's not, man's riding (mmm-mm) But you won't ride, stop lying When they see T Wayne no weapon You should see their face expression When we was low, no waps, just cheffin' Now we just shoot, David Beckham (Woo) He's wearing a chain, he's sweating (Uh) Watch me stack up a mil, still reppin' (Uh) Touch one of mine, I'll lose it Big A, back out the ting then shoot it Penthouse with a chocolate one T Wayne told me "I love this one" Anybody touch my ones, make a man bust my gun Fill up the ting, let it fly and spark Pull up to the dance and buy out the bar She already know who we are Now your bae wanna try out the car You don't know how it feel We expose the fake from the real All this cash, man, I don't need the roads But I still stay out here for the thrill Said she ain't a hoe, baby girl, that's cap But we let her roll 'cause she make it clap Team too real, when the feds ask questions We don't even know where we hid them waps Three times three cause problems Gang move mad on the wing like Bronson All the opp boys talk nonsense Got enough waps for a group, that's options True say, man's got fans, me and bro Everyone clock man's pole (Mm-mm) Five man deep in the T right now but the location unknown I was straight off the wing, done scheming Look for a opp then chief him Them days, I had no P's in Licked off the food, then dealing I don't do online cussing My bredrins ride out, big Russian (Uh) Ten on the block, they'll suck him Shy clutching, back out then touch him Turning the bells in the spinner You don't wanna get dropped like litter Man got waps in the ends And bro left toys with a chocolate ting, no Kinder Opp turn singer, online hitter Did all the dirt for the 'gram and Twitter Got sweets in the ting Make a opp turn pack, now I rap and a opp turn bitter You don't know how it feel We expose the fake from the real All this cash, man, I don't need the roads But I still stay out here for the thrill Said she ain't a hoe, baby girl, that's cap But we let her roll 'cause she make it clap Team too real, when the feds ask questions We don't even know where we hid them waps
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