Lyrics

He so brazy (I) Okay Yeah, yeah Okay, okay Got a nigga on the way and he call for a one-on-one (okay, okay) Got a little birdie in the flat and I hope that the jakes don't come (okay) I done gave nine K to K, came back with a-, oh, my God Had a drop-top Merc' and a kid by 21 I ain't tryna throw hands with no one's son (son) Bag full of big, big Runtz (Runtz) I'm eatin' her good, make her-, oh, my- (hahaha) Might fuck around and swim to her (phew) Molly on, molly on, molly on, molly on, molly on, molly on tongues Got a whole lot of racks on me, got a whole lot of racks on me Few milli' gonna fix your pain, gonna live your fantasy Wanna suck the skin off me, wanna lick the tats off me Pussy so good, wanna buy you a house, wanna move your family She cannot see the bad in me, this weed creepin', it's attackin' me In a speed Demon and I'm doin' 180 while she in my passenger seat Go Goyard, tell her, "Make it in pink" Right now, you're makin' me think Turn on the bros, that's not the way, not the code That's not the way that we live (okay, okay) Got a nigga on the way and he call for a one-on-one (okay, okay) Got a little birdie in the flat and I hope that the jakes don't come (okay) I done gave nine K to K, came back with a-, oh, my God Had a drop-top Merc' and a kid by 21 (one, one) I ain't tryna throw hands with no one's son (son) Bag full of big, big Runtz (Runtzs) I'm eatin' her good, make her-, oh, my- (hahaha) Might fuck around and swim to her (phew) Molly on, molly on, molly on, molly on, molly on, molly on tongues Please don't ask in the hearse, if you know it kills you, won't make this worse, yeah I'm on the road still, on the same curb, gotta make a swerve, yeah I tell her, "What you prefer? Virgil or Birks? Let's make a purchase" You can do Isabel, not Michael Kors, that shit's the worst, yeah She wanna be the fur, she is the fur I roll on Miami, I'm lettin' it burn Newest edition, I came in a puff Smoke from the tires, I'm lettin' it burn, bitch I'm back in the Rollsy Baby girl, nice and cozy Red seats like a nosebleed I'm just deepin' what you told me I told my lady to order some racks, go get it on Glovo I told my jeweller to pattern me ice, I'ma get it tomorrow I told my nigga to pour me a four and it's straight out the bottle I told my bitch, "It's a Urus, it ain't no Gallardo (okay, okay) Got a nigga on the way and he call for a one-on-one (okay, okay) Got a little birdie in the flat and I hope that the jakes don't come (okay) I done gave nine K to K, came back with a-, oh, my God Had a drop-top Merc' and a kid by 21 (one, one) I ain't tryna throw hands with no one's son (Son) Bag full of big, big Runtz (Runtz) I'm eatin' her good, make her-, oh, my- (hahaha) Might fuck around and swim to her (phew) Molly on, molly on, molly on, molly on, molly on, molly on tongues
Writer(s): Adam Williams, Ricky Banton Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com
instagramSharePathic_arrow_out