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And put it in value mode And then tell it your count in 20s What's that damn savage up to now? High in a free form Braids in, ain't no freeform Fuckin' yo bitch cause I got bored I was too high, missed the Carti tour I be rockin' designer, I be rockin' Dior You say you wit' the shit, but I'm not sure Rich nigga shit, nigga, I'm not poor Real nigga, man, I'm opening doors Glock on me, yeah, I'm keeping a sword I'm a real nigga, man, I need an award On the Southside, and I'm throwing a four I got Hi-Tec fallin' in my pores I'm with the gang, we the Kids Next Door Juggin' niggas, I'm the motherfuckin' lord Big Glock on me, turn it to a pack Choppa choppin' shit, [?] Flexin' hard, they not liking that Sippin' fake drank? You gon' have a heart attack I'm O-Dog, how I'm keeping a Mac I'm getting too much money, they can't stay on track Spin yo block, we gon' twirl Three bitches, yeah, Powerpuff Girls Letras de cancionesYou can fuck that bitch, that's not my girl When I shoot the Glock, I'm like, "Thatta girl" How you smoking woods and you cannot pearl? I'm high as fuck, I'm outta this world I got braids in my hair, ain't no Jheri curls Bad bitch, and her hair got the curls Smokin' dope, smokin' Teen Titans Y'all niggas bitches, y'all whole team biting Glock on me, what the fuck is fighting? I'm finessing niggas, like "Scam Likely" Nigga, am I high? Nigga, most likely All this money on me, that's why these bitches like me Thot bitch, and she look like Tiny Big bankroll, and yo' pockets tiny Broke as hell, but you steady whining I'm in the kitchen, but I'm not frying I'm high as hell, feel like I'm mountain climbing Chains cold as hell, it could change the climate Feel like Wiz Khalifa, cause I'm smoking chronic I'm gettin' money, that's alright I'm trappin' out this electronic See-See 12, then I turn into Sonic Sippin' too much lean, so I had to vomit We some young niggas, we do what we want And them hollow tips hot like a sauna And you smokin' mid, smokin' bad marijuana Percs, narcotics Weed, lean, everything, I got it Glock on me, I ain't shooting with no shotty Them hollow tips fuckin' up his body Too many guns when we ridin' in the 'Rari The beat finna end y'all, man, I'm sorry Kicked her out, I told her I'm sorry I keep a gun, I can't trust nobody From Letras Mania