Songtexte

A-ha, goddamn A-ha, what a shame, grrr Uh, go stupid, go crazy (a-ha) I can't fuck with you 'cause you motherfucking fugazy (what a shame) Boy you heard my last shit, that bitch went brazy (Go listen to that shit right now) Ayy, matter of fact, in a minute I'm goin' be buzzin' (yessir) Got an email 'bout a feature from your cousin (la familia?) Say that you the one, but I see 'bout a dozen (you ain't special) Know your mama play my music and she love it Ayy, go crazy, go stupid (uh-huh) Everybody love me, damn, I'm feeling like I'm Cupid (goddamn) Everybody love me tryna get up on my dick (yup) Everybody hate you, got you looking like Chris, bitch (boy) Dummy boy, go dummy, 6iine style (stupid) Gun Kelly, I'ma motherfuckin' wild child Ridiculous like Nicholas, I'm 'bouta wild out ('bouta wild out) And what you gon' do about it? I'm all over the map, might take a lil' nap Then wake up and do a little rap I'm not with the cap, I murder a track I take it and run it right back I'm breaking the bank, in the back Getting Becky right now, as a matter of fact I chop it and flip it, I feel like I (they ain't ready for this part) Work at a Japanese steakhouse and rap I'm all over the map, might take a lil' nap Then wake up and do a lil' rap (do a lil' rap) I'm not with the cap, I murder a track I take it and run it right back (run it right back) I'm breaking the bank, in the back Getting Becky right now, as a matter of fact (ha-ha) I chop it and flip it, I feel like I Work at a Japanese steakhouse and rap I'm too raw bitch, need some sunscreen Ain't my fault that you're unlucky, just like one-three I'm with the motherfuckin' squad, bitch, 'bout to convene And we might pop out at your party, like we Cosby We might pop out at your party, Polo G, shit And then we ridin' with some thotties, on some freak shit I'm always getting to the bag, bitch, never free shit Got 'em standing real still, damn, they Mona Lis'ing Got 'em standing real still, they don't know what I'm on (don' gotta clue) I'm 'bouta take this money, put it toward a summer home (I like that) Disrespectful shit, I call yo' bitch "the lumber zone" (for the wood) When I make a couple mil', I'm never comin' home (hell no) On God, on God
Writer(s): Jacob Lincoln, Adam Orringer-hau Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com
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