Pop Smoke (feat. G.T.)

(Meech) lil' broke-ass niggas Look You say you gettin' money, nigga, me too (me too) Chirps for a low number, I'ma need two (brrt), AR clip see-through Nah, I ain't the nigga you wanna start with, get a nigga car flipped I get money, fuck hoes, and talk shit (mwah) Get a squad wiped for a couple of them oranges I can't get no head in a whip 'less it's foreign Regardless how she look, she gotta leave when I'm done Bitch, I gotta flee, gotta run (gotta go) Let off so many guns, leave his block soaked (brrt) And I'm in Amiri and Dior like I'm Pop Smoke He think that his bitch comin' back, but she not though (she not though) Nigga, this a fin, but it sound like a chop, though Bro say he gon' sweep a nigga with a mop, though I fucked the shit out that bitch, then I got ghost I blew some racks at the bar, but I got more Block hot as hell, bro watchin' for the narcos Slidin' down the mile high as hell, dodgin' potholes What I'm sippin' on coulda paid a nigga car note (Wockhardt) Swear up and down they gettin' money, but they not though (but they not though) Light straps, big racks, yeah, nigga, we got those (we got those) And we in Dior and Amiri like Pop Smoke (like Pop Smoke) I just told two hoes to meet me on the top floor (mwah) I slid past in a Rolls-Royce, thought they'd seen a ghost (ghost) Check the score, we be havin' it Money comin' like I'm walkin' with a money magnet Dope on the stove, leave the pints in the cabinet (pints in the cabinet) Use a bitch address to catch this lil' package Racks in the bed, can't fuck on the mattress (nah) Fuck the lil' eight, I don't usually fuck average (all tens) Put the shit together, then make it all vanish Got a half brick, you 'bout to see me do magic (voilà) Nigga, I don't trust shit but my damn scale I damn sure don't trust you, nigga, you'll tell (you'll tell) I got a bag in, bigger than a whale Got that Purina for you boys, hit a nigga cell And I hate when niggas talk blow (shut the fuck up) Who don't know it come soft, bro You don't got no pape', you shouldn't even wanna talk, bro Block hot as hell, bro watchin' for the narcos Slidin' down the mile high as hell, dodgin' potholes What I'm sippin' on coulda paid a nigga car note (Wockhardt) Swear up and down they gettin' money, but they not though (but they not though) Light straps, big racks, yeah, nigga, we got those (we got those) And we in Dior and Amiri like Pop Smoke (like Pop Smoke) I just told two hoes to meet me on the top floor (mwah) I slid past in a Rolls-Royce, thought they'd seen a ghost (ghost) (Meech)