On

Dooley ain't on shit Don't believe that I call my old niggas when I need straps From you hoe niggas, I don't need stress The beat I put Fire on it so it bleed less They talking quiet to me Tell em speak less I'm the one blessed like a deacon Ima get high through the weekend Bad bitch, know she Puerto Rican See my brother yeah I think of him I ain't with him so I gotta pray for him If they get him, don't think I can make amends Gotta hit him, spot him, got him, drop him Sour all up in my pocket I don't want your body Told shorty pull up And just give me some knowledge Cause i'm going dumb Smoke got me numb I don't feel shit I sit back like I made it, Mike Will shit They know weed is my fragrance You smell me coming They don't know if i'm trapping Or holding onions Ha, fuck nigga That's the same thing Without a whip I done changed lanes Now I might get some eats with your main thing Fresh designer she thinking I slang things Fresh designer she thinking I slang But no, baby i'm hot I ride the beat, they can't get me to stop They stuck in the cushions, they looking for change Go as far as it take ain't no limit to range They'll never catch me slipping in the rain The tires is grippy And nigga i'm drifty Speed through the puddles of drama With a blick on my lap And a whole lotta commas I'm taking over Walk in with the bucks like i'm Ilyasova Day dream bout the rover I wanna be rocky, my chain on Balboa That boy is a soldier and nothing can hold him, like Texas She stressing Do you love me She ain't got value next to the money She let me hit no protection like rugby HEY, HEY Dooley ain't on shit Don't believe that I call my old niggas when I need straps From you hoe niggas, I don't need stress The beat I put Fire on it so it bleed less They talking quiet to me Tell em speak less I'm the one blessed like a deacon Ima get high through the weekend Bad bitch, know she Puerto Rican Bet that ya'll think I won't pop Till I pull up and splash Leave him wet like a mop Wanna know if I trap Man I get that a lot Pops told me be quiet and never to talk To the law, or you niggas who play like you are But I pull up in car Your bitch think i'm star She asked for my heart But I cannot do it Picture me losing They want me to fold, man they sounding retarded See i'm used to hanging shit up in my closet I drip like the faucet at 2 in the morning You niggas is snoring Wake em up I sit in the mazda, i'm high as a jet These niggas is vamps, they biting my next move But I got them in check, they don't know it's a chess move I'm on a run for the money Palms itching, man I feel like a junkie I'm on a run for the money Palms itching man I feel like a Smoke and dip out with the munchies We got to the safe Man he thought we was bluffing or something We coming for hunnits My niggas my nigga we coming for hunnits Dooley ain't on shit Don't believe that I call my old niggas when I need straps From you hoe niggas, I don't need stress The beat I put Fire on it so it bleed less They talking quiet to me Tell em speak less I'm the one blessed like a deacon Ima get high through the weekend Bad bitch, know she Puerto Rican