Letra de Pop That
Called Day to get to work, called TaTa with the bands
Call CiCi with the pack, she gon' line you for the gang
I be chilling with the gang, I be chilling with the MAC
Call CiCi with the pack, she gon' line you for the gang
I be chilling with the gang, I be chilling with the MAC
I be doing what I want, I be doing what y'all can't
Niggas can't see me, niggas can't be me
Niggas in their feelings 'cause these niggas can't reach me
I be chilling in the hood, niggas know what's good
Say it to my face, man, I wish a nigga would
Fuck your mother in the trap, shoot your brother in the park
They be asking where I'm at, lil' bitch, I'm in New York
New York, New York
New York, lil' bitch, I'm in New York
Pop that, drop that
Lob that, I got that
Pop that, drop that
Lob that, I got that
Come to 45th Street, I'ma have it with me
Got a couple screws loose, don't be acting silly
If y'all niggas need some work, y'all know where I'm at
And I got that zaza up in my fanny pack
Give me that, give me that
Nigga talking slick, I aimin' where his beanie at
Beanie at, beanie at
In the hood, on the block is where you see me at
Niggas can't see me, niggas can't be me
Niggas in their feelings 'cause these niggas can't reach me
I be chilling in the hood, niggas know what's good
Say it to my face, man, I wish a nigga would
Fuck your mother in the trap, shoot your brother in the park
They be asking where I'm at, lil' bitch, I'm in New York
New York, New York
New York, lil' bitch, I'm in New York
Pop that, drop that
Lob that, I got that
Pop that, drop that
Lob that, I got that
Okay, I keep a hood bitch with a pair of Daniel Greenes on
I'ma rock her bells like she got a tambourine on
That's my theme song
Screaming "Fuck the opps" with "No Vaseline" on
Trap house haunted, call it Little Shop of Horror
Rich nigga shit, smelling like a flower garden
In the drop Gallardo, all these whores, I'm a hoarder
Made my pussy popper pop that pussy like a soda
I'ma let her pop that oochie, let her slop the Tunechi
Then I fed her cock and coochie like some lobster sushi
She a ratchet thot but bougie, that shit wild confusing
Got her skating on the X like Kristi Yamaguchi
Shit get scary, kind of spooky with her monster booty
Girl, that pussy pasta to me, ate her like a foodie
That vagina kinda fruity, treat it like a smoothie
Ain't from Queensbridge, but I throw this dick like I'm a QB
Uh, pop that pussy like a toolie
Pop that pussy like a Uzi
Yeah, pop that oochie
Yeah, pop that oochie, make it pop for Tunechi
Yeah, pop it like a shooter
Pop that shit for Mula
Niggas can't see me, niggas can't be me
Niggas in their feelings 'cause these niggas can't reach me
I be chilling in the hood, niggas know what's good
Say it to my face, man, I wish a nigga would
Fuck your mother in the trap, shoot your brother in the park
They be asking where I'm at, lil' bitch, I'm in New York
New York, New York
New York, lil' bitch, I'm in New York
Pop that, drop that
Lob that, I got that
Pop that, drop that
Lob that, I got that
Come to 45th Street, I'ma have it with me
Got a couple screws loose, don't be acting silly
If y'all niggas need some work, y'all know where I'm at
And I got that zaza up in my fanny pack
Give me that, give me that
Nigga talking slick, I aimin' where his beanie at
Beanie at, beanie at
In the hood, on the block is where you see me at
Niggas can't see me, niggas can't be me
Niggas in their feelings 'cause these niggas can't reach me
I be chilling in the hood, niggas know what's good
Say it to my face, man, I wish a nigga would
Fuck your mother in the trap, shoot your brother in the park
They be asking where I'm at, lil' bitch, I'm in New York
New York, New York
New York, lil' bitch, I'm in New York
Pop that, drop that
Lob that, I got that
Pop that, drop that
Lob that, I got that
Okay, I keep a hood bitch with a pair of Daniel Greenes on
I'ma rock her bells like she got a tambourine on
That's my theme song
Screaming "Fuck the opps" with "No Vaseline" on
Trap house haunted, call it Little Shop of Horror
Rich nigga shit, smelling like a flower garden
In the drop Gallardo, all these whores, I'm a hoarder
Made my pussy popper pop that pussy like a soda
I'ma let her pop that oochie, let her slop the Tunechi
Then I fed her cock and coochie like some lobster sushi
She a ratchet thot but bougie, that shit wild confusing
Got her skating on the X like Kristi Yamaguchi
Shit get scary, kind of spooky with her monster booty
Girl, that pussy pasta to me, ate her like a foodie
That vagina kinda fruity, treat it like a smoothie
Ain't from Queensbridge, but I throw this dick like I'm a QB
Uh, pop that pussy like a toolie
Pop that pussy like a Uzi
Yeah, pop that oochie
Yeah, pop that oochie, make it pop for Tunechi
Yeah, pop it like a shooter
Pop that shit for Mula
