Music Video

Credits

COMPOSITION & LYRICS
Whitney Jackson
Whitney Jackson
Songwriter
PRODUCTION & ENGINEERING
Catjacc
Catjacc
Producer
Bennie Hurst
Bennie Hurst
Engineer

Lyrics

I love a street nigga who swear that His shit don't stank Cash me out like a mf bank No he don't care what you mf thank Try to flex on him know that they can't That's type that I need yeah Give 'em some to believe in Soon as he step on the scene I like the Wat he gleaming I love trap nigga with figures you Know he ain't stingy Give me benji from corners he Bending Give me benji his each time that he Bend me Cuz he know that his bitch Is not Friendly You need a real on like me yeah Someone that's gonna be there First round pick on the team For me he gone do everything yeah Yeah He dabbled in a few assaults Name got more hits than a DBA Middleman from Peru / said come Meet the plug/ i Know he gotta be Otw Since we talking bout cheese aye Hoes should DIP My nigga is na-chos He deep in the streets like a pothole So he attract ratchets and thot hoes Like that I got goals So we kick it Anesthetic by niggas I leave with no Feelings Rizzing me up I just act like I feel it Riga-mortise mood I be stiff on these Niggas Yeah that MONEY TALKS so I ACT A lil different Carbine leave like you Carmine Dropped by the top then I come in & TUCK HER (TUCKER) I ain't got time hope my lines be like Lime to you rat ass hoes & snake Motherfuckers He a trench baby hate that I love em Bitches be fake I hate you can't trust Em I see pass the hate it's safe to say Fuck Em Yeah he looked out when he hit Them stains Know we locked in I got keys to safe When most of you bitches would be In the way He be the brawn if you be in my face While I be the brain quartbacking the plays Hoes just be dying to say that it's up For me Darling you couldn't keep up with Me Could wear the same clothes you Still couldn't fuck with mr Chopped you ain't got the recipe you Pop it a second I just Pop it for weeks Can't do it for you But he do it for me Know a few hoes who slap hoes for Nothing Imagine what them hoes a do for fee. I'm rocking Moschino they capping And we know Nothing on these hoes cost more Than a c-note Smelling like kush mixed with Byredo See em in less clothes More these hoes be broke I'm a new player I came with the Cheat codes A nun with a lame with him I'm a Freak hoe He giving more bread than Totinos I let him break it in bear (bare) like He DEE Rose.
Writer(s): Whitney Jackson Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com
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