Print

(Skipass, you a fool for this one) I'm fuckin' hoes, off rip Water on me, get a ship My old school might dunk on Forgi' wheels My bank card and my back pocket filled with some M's You keep talkin', you broke, I'ma go and cop another crib His ho exposed, yeah, it is what it is L.A. Bossa Nova or ATL Ruth's Chris Accepted the money, accepted my sins One in the head, we ridin' with extra clips Back to the biz' with flood on our wrists Bank of America, bands on the strips Go 'head and cuff, I ain't stand the bitch Nigga can play or get spinned like a frisbee I'm studio workin' on top of my crib Keep bandanas on guns, we tied like a ribbon Nah, he ain't snitchin', he doin' his cities [?], just show me some millions Showin' the Wraith, they showin' thе Bentley My partner in thе crib and they roll like some Heely's I heard the weed you sellin' is shitty We smokin' on dank, ZaZa what we dealin' Nah, I ain't playin' no games with you We sendin' the shots, yeah, we come out a pivot Letras de cancionesKnow me and the dawgs in the building so we [?] kitty We can make it out, what you talkin' 'bout? Flexin' through it on the 'Gram, yeah, I gotta climb out I'll never go out like Bow Wow Virgil, Off-White when I pop out Yeah, we ride tinted when the cops out Yeah, I'm gettin' trill with the top off See if you gon' shoot it when it pop off [?], yeah, I'm flyin' to the [?] I'm fuckin' hoes, off rip Water on me, get a ship My old school might dunk on Forgi' wheels My bank card and my back pocket filled with some M's You keep talkin', you broke, I'ma go and cop another crib His ho exposed, yeah, it is what it is L.A. Bossa Nova or ATL Ruth's Chris Accepted the money, accepted my sins One in the head, we ridin' with extra clips Balmain rips, I guess it's the Balmain drip And we take action, yeah, yeah, no comment Get the fuck out my way, yeah, Hood Baby coming This a forty-two with the big Balenci', but it look size ten I'm with some shottas, don dadas [?], and they gon' spray I got the spotlight and I ain't paranoid, it's okay [?], we the bottom boys Real drip, baby, I'm the [?] Nigga, on the [?] 'cause you know you ain't street Wet the block, shoot three hundred like Reese Nigga changed more than the change in the beat Put a freak ho back in a freak Bitches made friends 'cause they all on knees How they gon' trip when they all on weed? How they gon' trip when they all on me? Ayy, StickBaby pour a deuce of the lean Went Meek Mill's with the Championship ring I'm fuckin' hoes, off rip Water on me, get a ship My old school might dunk on Forgi' wheels My bank card and my back pocket filled with some M's You keep talkin', you broke, I'ma go and cop another crib His ho exposed, yeah, it is what it is L.A. Bossa Nova or ATL Ruth's Chris Accepted the money, accepted my sins One in the head, we ridin' with extra clips From Letras Mania