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(Yeah) I'ma be at the goal right with you (Ha) Spot, we can get up with you (Ah) Now I tell that ho to shut up, listen (Brree) Now she suck my dick like she got lisp Yeah-yeah, yeah-yeah Hold up, had to make that bag (Ha) Hold up, I'm in my bag Had to make a pitstop to that cash (Yeah) These niggas playin' with me right now How you running and you comin' in last? Yeah, let that chopper go blast Leave that nigga up in the past (We love you, Tecca) Leave that nigga up in the grass Chopper make him dance They like "You grew up too fast" No, I had to get off my ass Run that pack, like dash Smoking on good exotic gas Glock give the boy a rash Promise you don't wanna clash Big balling, feel like Nash When they hit me, I'm like "Yeah" I'm hit on a ho like, yeah Make her say Yeah (Yeah), yeah Letras de cancionesAll-black Mercedez, yeah Lil' bro, you can't be serious (No) These lil' niggas delirious Hop in that whip and then kill a queer I didn't mean to hurt you, tears Yeah, ha-ha-ha Tell that ho "Bye-bye" Fuck her then kick her out my house (Yeah) These fake ass niggas tryna reach out Lil' Faygo had to stop that simpin' and pimp it out (Brree-rree) Took the top off (Skrrt), I'm sending top back Yes, I see that nigga flexin', tell that nigga stop that (Woah, woah) These lil' niggas, they simps 'Cause if I don't get killed by a pussy-ass nigga, it ain't worth the kill She said "Faygo, you too real" And I'ma be at the goal right with you (Ha) Yeah, I'ma get up with you Have a nigga up that lil' stick with you, yeah Ain't no family, ain't no picture Yeah, knock a nigga out the picture Tell me who the fuck gon' miss you? Nigga, please don't cry, I don't keep tissues (Yeah) From Letras Mania