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(Do it) My sweet babe (Shine) My sweet baby (Prove it) My sweet baby (Say it) Ooh, yeah Uh-huh P. Dot got that pack Ooh-ooh I don't wanna wait (Ayy) Can't wait to smack you, nigga, been itchin' to do it Hit stick, you gon' make my lil' niggas lose it His bitch finally left him, I'm the reason they ruined See me in her texts and I ain't even in Houston We gon' air him in the morning since that nigga so foolish His bitch scratched my whole back, that's why he skippin' my music Huh, they keep hatin' like I wasn't their biggest influence BeBe Kidd got successful, I'm not listenin' to 'em Why you mad that bitch chose? She want a winner (Why you mad?) Tired of arguin' 'bout hoes over dinner ('Bout hoes) Flew hеr to the hills, fucked her, Bryson Tillеr (All night) Took her to a show, fucked her in a Sprinter (On the low) I'm like Michael Jackson, hand full of glitter, nigga He like Scooby-Doo, whole van full of snitches Buyin' guns from the nerds, teachin' scams to the killers Motherfuck what you heard, that boy handlin' business, huh Letras de canciones Bitch said it's over, I don't when we started, huh Tried to play my heart, she ain't know I was heartless, huh Quick to draw, he thought I was only an artist I'm like Melvin, lettin' weed strands grow in the garden Talkin' million dollar plays when I bump into Ghazi All the opps mad as hell, they more pissed than Chauncey, huh Hit him with that gazer like SoLLUMINATI (Baow, baow) Two bitches, you know P in the middle like Taraji Make me smack you with a hollow tip, you know my temper tiny Boy, you keep comin' to lose short like you hoop in the nineties, ooh I just dropped a bag on my bitch, money well spent Free the real niggas, throwin' sixes in they jail pens (Ayy) Countin' money in the Ghost, laughin' like I'm Tales Crypt Broke ass boy gon' make me shoot up all these damn tints Nigga, come outside Can't wait to make you duck since you givin' run arounds, nigga Why you mad that bitch chose? She want a winner (Why you mad?) Tired of arguin' 'bout hoes over dinner ('Bout hoes) Flew her to the hills, fucked her, Bryson Tiller (All night) Took her to a show, fucked her in a Sprinter (On the low) I'm like Michael Jackson, hand full of glitter, nigga He like Scooby-Doo, whole van full of snitches Buyin' guns from the nerds, teachin' scams to the killers Motherfuck what you heard, that boy handlin' business Trust me Love me (Say it) If you'll trust me (Do it) Do you want me? (Show it) If you need me (Prove it) If you love me (Do it) If you want me (Show it) If you need me (Prove it) If you love me (Say it) If you trust me (Do it) If you want me (Show it) Trust me (Do it) If you want me (Show it) From Letras Mania