Στίχοι

Yeah Ayy Jay Critch Hood Fav Ayy I'm like, fuck all that talkin' Nigga, I'ma get it without a doubt, ayy I'm the nigga she be stressin' 'bout You the type to go stress her out, ayy Knots in my pockets, I feel like I gotta go and walk it out, ayy (Go walk it out) Tell 'em to stop it You know they gon' do the most for the clout (Ayy, ayy) I play the game like a athlete (Athlete) Ever since I got money, she jackin' me (Jackin' me) Leave it all on her face like it's ac-ne (Ac-ne) I ran up the racks like a track meet (Track meet) It ain't no GPS, she can't track me (Can't track me) I'm the hottest young'un, don't @ me (Don't @ me) I'm the hood fav, don't @ me (Don't @ me) If you throwin' shade, nigga, @ me (Hood Fav) 'Cause they movin' strange, they start tellin' lies When that hate start workin', send my 30s out lurkin' (30s) I'm tryna get 'em washed like detergent (Like detergent) They be lookin' real nervous in person (Nervous in person) Call my accountant to see how my check look I don't want her unless she got a checkbook Diamonds fightin', you get hit with a left hook We ain't fightin', got the thunder like Westbrook (Pa-pow) Rings on me like Bill Russell (Bill Russell) Chips in my pockets, no Ruffles (No Ruffles) Stuffin' all the blue hunnids inside Of the duffle (Inside of the duffles) Puttin' my women on shuffle (Shuffle) Fuck her two times, but she won't get no Fendi I know they wish they could stop it and end me (No) Already know that these niggas, they plottin' and envy I come from a block where they not so friendly (.30) Poured her D'ussé up, she gettin' tipsy (She gettin' tipsy) How I gave her dick, she gotta tip me (She gotta tip me) I'm precautious, I'm ridin' with Fifty Countin' blue hunnids, R.I.P Nipsey (R.I.P. Nipsey) R.I.P Aggie (R.I.P Aggie) Came a long way from my Levis baggie (Levis baggie) 'Cause she look good, got her bag, I'm shaggin' (I'm shaggin') Runnin' right back to the cash like Madden (Like Madden) I was so broke had to get what I can White Moncler, I'm the Michelin Man (Michelin Man) He was talkin', we ran into the man (Into the man) What your homies did when shit hit the fan? I need more money, less court dates (Less court dates) Bags so big Throw it up and make the floor shake (Make the floor shake) Ass so big, fuck around and make the floor break (Floor break) Girl, I'm in a rush, gimme head, no foreplay (Ayy) I'm makin' plays I don't watch what the haters say (What the haters say) Shoot a crossover, hit him with the fadeaway (With the fadeaway) Shoot a crossover, he drummin' like 808 Don't even know what the fuck that I made today (That I made today) Niggas ain't want' see me eat, but I made a plate (But I made a plate) And then I wrapped up a plate for the team Niggas frontin', shit is not what it seems They got followers, they ain't got no green (They ain't got no green) Fuck all that talkin' Nigga, I'ma get it without a doubt, ayy (I'ma get it without a doubt) I'm the nigga she be stressin' 'bout You the type to go stress her out Ayy (You the type to go stress her out) Knots in my pockets, I feel like I gotta go and walk it out, ayy (Go walk it out) Tell 'em to stop it You know they gon' do the most for the clout (Ayy, ayy) I play the game like a athlete (Athlete) Ever since I got money, she jackin' me (Jackin' me) Leave it all on her face like it's ac-ne (Ac-ne) I ran up the racks like a track meet (Track meet) It ain't no GPS, she can't track me (Can't track me) I'm the hottest young'un, don't @ me (Don't @ me) I'm the hood fav, don't @ me (Don't @ me) If you throwin' shade, nigga, @ me (Hood Fav)
Writer(s): Inconnu Compositeur Auteur, Jason Critchlow, James Smallwood Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com
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