Lyrics

Yeah, yeah, yeah, mm-mm Yeah, yeah, yeah, mm, Mr. Ski, nigga (thanks, Yakree) Ski Yeah, yeah, ay, nigga Ridin' 'round town smokin' gas (yeah, yeah) All I wanna do is count them racks (yeah, nigga) 'Member I was broke, I can't go back, uh-uh I can only fuck her if she bad, uh-huh Once I grabbed the mic, jumped in my bag, uh (yeah, yeah) She say, "What's your hobby?" Chasin' cash, runnin' bands up (a bag) She just wanna fuck me 'cause I'm lit, that's that fan stuff Yeah, yeah, if you a bad bitch, then put your hands up All these diamonds on me with the stars, my shit dancin' (damn, damn) Don't hit my phone, if it ain't 'bout a check, I won't answer (on God) Every day, I'm runnin' up that check, tryna get it (yeah, nigga) Bust the Rollie down I don't got no time for these bitches (ice, ice, ice) They ain't never think that we would shine 'til we did it (on God) Check my roster, all my bitches fine, yeah, they pretty (bad bitch) Bro done lost his mind, he ridin' 'round with that switchy Every day, I'm on the grind, tryna put that bag up (yeah, yeah, yeah) Only baddies 'round, if she ain't fine Tell her back up (tell her back up) Nigga hatin' just 'cause his life ain't like mine That shit sad, bruh (yeah, that shit sad, bruh) Paper chaser, I'm a money fiend for that cash, yeah (yeah) Must think she a City Girl 'cause all she wanna do is act up Ridin' 'round town smokin' gas (smokin' gas, nigga) All I wanna do is count them racks (yeah, yeah) 'Member I was broke, I can't go back, uh-uh (nigga, yeah) I can only fuck her if she bad, uh-huh (bitch, on God, nigga) Once I grabbed the mic, jumped in my bag, uh (in my bag, nigga) She say, "What's your hobby?" Chasin' cash Runnin' bands up (chasin' cash) She just wanna fuck me 'cause I'm lit, that's that fan stuff Yeah, yeah, if you a bad bitch, then put your hands up Came in with a pocket full of cheese, I got cheddar now (yeah) Not the type to sit up on my ass like them other guys She walked in the room, seen Mr. Ski, she got butterflies (yeah) I didn't think this rappin' shit was me, but I love it now Yeah, yeah, all my diamonds hit, uh (ice) Yeah, yeah, yeah, outside with that shit, uh (nigga) Yeah, yeah, yeah, LA with my bitch, uh (nigga, damn) Yeah, yeah, yeah, she showin' me tricks, yeah, uh (uh, uh) A bitch that ain't gon' go, that don't exist (no, that don't exist) Know they on, bro Feel like Frozone 'cause my fuckin' wrist like a snow globe I can't never go broke for no bitch, that's a no-go (Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, that's a no-go) Ridin' 'round town smokin' gas (smokin' gas, nigga) All I wanna do is count them racks (count them racks, nigga) 'Member I was broke, I can't go back, uh-uh (nigga, yeah, yeah) I can only fuck her if she bad, uh-huh Once I grabbed the mic, jumped in my bag, uh (In my bag, nigga) She say, "What's your hobby?" Chasin' cash, runnin' bands up (yeah) She just wanna fuck me 'cause I'm lit, that's that fan stuff Yeah, yeah, if you a bad bitch, then put your hands up Yeah, put your hands up Yeah, yeah, if you a bad bitch, then put your hands up Yeah, ski
Writer(s): Davyn Nuñez, Jack Thierer, Jayden Rolle, Tyler Meeks Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com
instagramSharePathic_arrow_out