Lyrics

I'm broke as a bitch Stay walking round in these Nikes Either a check or a stripey I say on God do it nightly All of my dogs trying to bite me Right now I know you don't like me Talking like you not gon spite me I hear your bullshit politely Second by second you plotting I see your plan like a time piece Frankly I'm taking it lightly Where is that feature Damnit I wonder I bet that you think you chessin But That's just a blunder Quick to drop a project for the checkout Miss a cheque you prolly going under Under their influential get the meds out Rolling in the storm the sound of (Gun Fire) Holding that new foreign hear the gunshots Folding your cards bet you checking the blunt shop Problems, problems, problems Check notification settings Lil bitch Check all the locations I been Even if you in first place you don't win Coz you got problems, problems, problems How you gon' deal with all these problems Imitate everyone else that's How you know that you gon Solve em, solve em, solve em (Uh) God wouldn't fail (Don't fail) Cruising the ocean, no sail (No sail, no sail) Animalistic, no tail (No tail, no tail) One switch, too rich, no bail (No bail, no bail) Bali, my Bali, it flail (It flail, it flail) Bali to Cali, no grail (No grail, no grail) Pinned on the map, no nail (No nail, no nail) M2, M4 no snail (No snail) One rich bitch, no leather One rip quick, light header One liq, no cash, no better One sip, no drip, nice weather One rich bitch, no leather One switch lift up header Ten numbers, one name, one inbox One tick, two tick, no letter I'm broke as a bitch Stay walking round in these Nikes Either a check or a stripey I say on God do it nightly All of my dogs trying to bite me Right now I know you don't like me Talking like you not gon spite me I hear your bullshit politely Second by second, you plotting I see your plan like a timepiece Frankly, I'm taking it lightly Where is that feature Damnit I wonder I bet that you think you chessin But That's just a blunder Quick to drop a project for the checkout Miss a cheque you prolly going under Under their influential get the meds out Rolling in the storm the sound of (Gun Fire) Holding that new foreign hear the gunshots Folding your cards bet you checking the blunt shop
Writer(s): Simon Townsend Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com
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