Lyrics

Let the chop shoot ain't no back and forth Man these niggas weak what they rapping for Taking flicks of the drip froze my gallery I ain't the reason why you broke why you mad at me Jaay you hit my bitch stop asking me I'm the band man bitch don't challenge me I keep a golden ticket she not trapping me A you say you getting me money don't cap to me Hating on a nigga that's a red flag Chopsticks shooting boy I hope your legs fast I'm finna take another trip I got jet Lag Jaay is the one i been said that They say i only make party music He just mad his bitch shaking ass to it She treat the dick like a candle she blew it They don't want to see me win yeah i knew it I'll be mad to if I was losing He don't like getting money i'm clueless Steal a nigga life like a booster Thank god for this life hallelujah I'm finna show them how to do it Hit my dance on a bitch go stupid Big bands bitch you know I'm getting to it If it's real tat my name on your Coochie Get doe get doe get doe I gotta get it Chop stick make him bounce like some switches Drop the lo ima spin like a fidget Why you worrying bout me i don't get it Talking shit on these beats i be tripping Exotic clothes on my body I be dripping I try to tell them i'm the one they ain't listen Another hating ass nigga in my mentions Ella Mae wit a bag i be boo'd up Everything i do major bitch I'm to much Don't give a fuck about fame can't give two fucks Cap me wetty now I'm finna bust a few nuts I'm the Don Dada I'm going Kanye crazy Got a drop tolerance i stay in the latest Mix match in all that you know i'm not basic Got your bitch in the room finna strip no Las Vegas He say his bitch bad but she ugly when she cute Man these niggas trash it sounds better when is mute Ten bands ain't nothing I spent that on shoes Break her back send her back Amb you rude What's up wit niggas thinking that i lost it Put a hole in his head he a dolphin I think it's time to put him in a coffin That ain't za in yo wood you not coughing They switch on me gotta shit on them respectfully She got good head yeah that's her specialty Hit her right from the back she hear the melody You don't like getting money is what you telling me I rather chase a bag these hoes not impressing me If it ain't about a bag don't message me He got four different circles he a Audi I be dripping hard bitch you know my body He a trick bitches dating niggas pockets Mix match drip bitch I got options All these niggas my kids i should adopt them Now days yeah ain't nobody solid Ain't nobody fucking wit me to be honest Bad bitch give me head like a bonnet Cute face long hair Pocahontas Bitch chop throwing up bullets like it's vomit Gang I been told niggas ima cold individual I been told niggas ima cold individual I been told niggas ima cold individual Gang Aye it cost to live like this your year me
Writer(s): Jayvon May Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com
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