Text (feat. C. Mula)

Sosa baby Runnin' up that sack Smokin' on this dope; also known as pack And we got them gats, we won't cut no slack In these Fendi slacks, I be speakin' facts I'm all about a stack Big ass blunts of thracks, & that be the OG, just to be exact She like how I flex, so she want some sex I don't wanna talk She don't wanna text Please don't cross the gun line, gon' cost you your sunshine And I got the D-line lookin' like a lunch line And today is payday, so you know it's crunch time Got my AR with me, that's my lil sunshine Pour that codeine up, it's bout that get drunk time You gon catch your deer, Imma go and hunt mine Got the utensils bitch I got the supplies Y'all my shorties so, when you see me say "What up Dad!" Ain't' no puff, puff-pass, Boa I had a rough past In the second grade I had a BB in my lunch bag You know the streets is empty Get stuck like a thumb tac Foe nem took yo choppa from you, come and getcho drum back Runnin' up that sack Smokin' on this dope; also known as pack And we got them gats, we won't cut no slack In these Fendi slacks, I be speakin' facts I'm all about a stack Big ass blunts of thracks, & that be the OG, just to be exact She like how I flex, so she want some sex I don't wanna talk She don't wanna text Ima pour this pint up in some lemon lime You can get yo shit split, fuckin' wit me n the guys Mobbin with some big shit, don't pay us no mind Hit you wit' some big hits, won't take us no time Your bitch want this big dick, she not even fine Pockets be on be big bitch, I'm not even lyin' This shit is off the fuckin dome, I'm not even tryin' It ain't hard to get up wit' me, I'm not even hidin' Bwoy that old ass Benz, you not even slidin' Hit yo' bitch from the back, she gone let me have it Bitch I'm all about the dollas like I play with Dallas Turn this shit malfunction, texting me could get tragedy Bang This shit is crazy. I'm a 90's baby, I know nothin' bout the 80's Hit you from Atlanta, take a L, look like McGrady We was really warrin', I looked up and God just saved me Runnin' up that sack Smokin' on this dope; also known as pack And we got them gats, we won't cut no slack In these Fendi slacks, I be speakin' facts I'm all about a stack Big ass blunts of thracks; & that be the O.G. just to be exact She like how I flex, so she want some sex I don't wanna talk She don't wanna text Bang