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It sounds like Nyge I've got sons, I've got clothes I've got birds on my phones I've got birds on my Gucci Got rackades on my stones She don't know me, she knew me I ain't wifing no Suzie I ain't wifing no hoes I keep it G to my bones I've got sons, I've got clothes I've got birds on my phones I've got birds on my Gucci Got rackades on my stones She don't know me, she knew me I ain't wifing no Suzie I ain't wifing no hoes I keep it G to my bones People listen when I speak Wear my glisten on the street Dripping water, man ah leak, tweak Always drunk, I never geek Hella girls all wanna meet, greet Say they love me in a tweet Tryna text me, that's a myth Letras de cancionesMythological, Greek Notting Hill and Ladbroke Grove Due to move up to a creek Mini Uzi looking peak Couple issues for a neek All these paigons tryna creep Faded every single week Mummy called me, saying "cut it out" I said "it really isn't deep" Never cheated, man, I kept it thug Reddest bottoms like I stepped in blood Rappers lying on their smoke Lying on it like they slept in drugs You tried to remix my classic I heard your riddim and your version sucks I need marble in my kitchen Alexander silk and Persian rugs I've got sons, I've got clothes I've got birds on my phones I've got birds on my Gucci Got rackades on my stones She don't know me, she knew me I ain't wifing no Suzie I ain't wifing no hoes I keep it G to my bones I've got sons, I've got clothes I've got birds on my phones I've got birds on my Gucci Got rackades on my stones She don't know me, she knew me I ain't wifing no Suzie I ain't wifing no hoes I keep it G to my bones New number Girl's tryna sleep in my jumper Treat the new whip like a bumper Call of Duty, man ah come like a thumper All of my bitches are boujee All of my niggas are boujee Drop a rackade on the ruley Don't spill the drink on my souvis Designer on me, I'm mismatched She gives brain, I can't kiss that Bro's machine got no kick back We have birds and we whip that My lightskin jawn too wavy Peng like KFC gravy But she can't call me a baby Does she chat to rappers man? Maybe Bro, she a bird That's what I heard But you wanna wife her and take her to yours That shit is absurd I glide on the curb My bars are my word Sneak-dissing rappers, try send for the Trace But they're all in the dirt I've got sons, I've got clothes I've got birds on my phones I've got birds on my Gucci Got rackades on my stones She don't know me, she knew me I ain't wifing no Suzie I ain't wifing no hoes I keep it G to my bones I've got sons, I've got clothes I've got birds on my phones I've got birds on my Gucci Got rackades on my stones She don't know me, she knew me I ain't wifing no Suzie I ain't wifing no hoes I keep it G to my bones From Letras Mania