Créditos
COMPOSICIÓN Y LETRA
Tmoney Hollis
Autoría
Letra
Shoutout on this bitch, ****
Got money in this bitch, ****
I'm punchin' in on this bitch like it's my last song
Walk up in the party, thug, get my Mac on
Yeah, I'm steppin', makin' G's off a crack phone
Every time, better call that bitch and break her backbone
That ****'s really somethin', I'ma pop him in his fuckin' dome
That ****, I'ma rap on this bitch like it's my last song
Shoutout, bread and money, he gon' pop it with the fuckin' chrome
Shoutout, bread and money, he gon' pop it with the fuckin' suite
Let me just let you **** know, he fuckin' on your beat
And he took a one-fall, we gon' pop him with the suite
Fuck it, let me run it down with the 50 steel
Or we gon' hard run it down like a fuckin' blitz
Or we can put the gun down and we can knuckle up
Then you can get your ass beat for tryin' to test your luck
Don't call my phone, buy no bitch who a fuckin' slug
Love, bring you an M-dollar and you a fuckin' club
Ayy, y'all, ayy, you a fuckin' club
And he try to knuckle up, I'ma beat his ass up
And ****, I don't use fists, I use a switch
And **** play with me and I'ma fuck on his bitch
And when he two-turns to me, bitch, he really spin
And **** try to fight him, I'ma put him on his fuckin' ass
And just to let you know, two, two, three, lay you in the grass
And just to let you know, your mama ain't safe, I'ma pop her ass
And just to let you know, Mikey P scorchin' through the grass
And just to let you know, Corvani, he gon' dump her ass
Dump her ass on her ass, what up, dude
Don't fuckin' go out killin' with that lil' 22
Punch me the fuck in
I can go on any lil' beat
Bitty checkin' eyes, don't wanna look up all on me
Bitch, I'm not, she gon' check it fast for the team
Walk up in the party, get that mac and all the hoes
One leg up, she throw it back, I'm like, whoa
Dead checkin' eyes, hot thot, checkin' out crack
Lil' thick, she light-skinned, love the way she throw it back
Bap, bap, splinters comin' down, where you at
I'ma come up on this bitch like it's my last time
Blood, no, I'm gettin' real shusty with the mask on
I'ma bust his ass down with the fuckin' flash on
Me and Brother Money makin' G's off a crack phone
Fuck the bitch good, now she askin' me how I'm that long
Yeah, you know I get the spit and need a quanty flow
I don't need a Urk, brother, I go blow for blow
Man, best believe Big Kwan been on the show
Your name Joker, ****, cause you a joke to hoes
A, B, and 1-5, had to let y'all know
Fuck you gon' kill with that Lil' 22
You a fuckin' goopy, make y'all ass eat that dog food
Two to three, 10 of them in his back, he drop the lawsuit
Is that Trey Turner pullin' up in the Audi coupe
Boy, spread the lights, hell, yeah, I'm doin' a dash, fool
He breakin' a right, hell, yeah, they through the spice, fool
Gotta do him bad, cause I got that fuckin' dog food
He breakin' a left, hell, yeah, I'm hittin' Nashville
Hit him with a switch, lil' bro is in a bad mood
Chill to the south, and I sell his fuckin' dog food
Written by: Tmoney Hollis
