Lyrics

These niggas lame, my niggas take chains, so please don't give 'em a reason (Please, don't give 'em a reason) Gucci bucket hat from my heathens, Ion' wear Jesus pieces (Ion' wear Jesus pieces) Brand new Chrome Hearts every season, I get this shit too easy (I get this shit too easy) Hoes come in, got to take they phone, got to know these hoes be sneaky (Got to know these hoes be sneaky) Addied up, gassed up, Perc'ed out, my nigga be geekin' (Yeah, my nigga be geekin') Tatted up, ass up, face down, every time she leave me (Every time she leave me) Add it up, count it up, spend it all, tell Ced, "I'm tweakin'" (Tell Ced, "I'm tweakin'") I be quick to cut a bitch off for nun', I don't need no reason (I don't need no reason) Bankrolls in the door, pull 'em out, make a ho start cheesin' (I'll make a ho start cheesin') Seven-hundred-seven horses in the engine, so you know I'm speedin' By the time this drop, I'ma touch a M, but my bitch got seventy-five (Seventy-five) Brand new Draco, 'posed to be a first-class, this bitch put yo' ass right in the sky (Right in the sky) I know for a fact you don't listen to Biggie, so why you so ready to die? (Why you so ready to die?) Different hoes hittin' my phone, that's everyday They say "Fuck me," never reply (No, never reply) That shit slow, you need to sell that, go get you a Scat Pack They let Doodie out that cell, he tryna push a hat back I just sent her to get her nails done, just to get my back scratched She already know what she came for, time to get your back cracked I heard they spunt your block like five times, better go get back, back I ain't been the same since '09, I'm still havin' flashbacks Coulda went brown seats, lil' bro had that, said "Fuck it, go matte black" My lil' niggas smokin' that gas pack, and sippin' on hazmat Me and my niggas, we drive S-Class, 'Vettes and Hellcats I'm that nigga just like Pluto, bitch, you can tell him I said that If a ho text me, I don't text back, but she know I read that Soon as I land, I call that doctor, I need me some head, stat These niggas still think they ahead of us, go check the damn stats Just went Burberry for my raincoat, and my bitch bag match She know if she play her part right, I'ma buy her ass, yeah Came a long way from them hatchbacks, now it's Maybach catnaps We on his head just like a snapback, better bring that bag back I seen niggas talk that rap cap, 'til they get they rag snatched She keep sendin' me her Cashtag, she smokin' that good crack My main bitch can have a big bag, I'ma still fuck a hood rat (Hood rat) These niggas lame, my niggas take chains, so please don't give 'em a reason Gucci bucket hat from my heathens, Ion' wear Jesus pieces Addied up, gassed up, Perc'ed out, my nigga be geekin' Bankrolls in the door, pull 'em out, make a ho start cheesin'
Writer(s): Benjamin Phillips Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com
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