Pudgy (feat. Lil Uzi Vert)

Ooh, oh

Ooh, ooh, oh

Yeah, yeah, yeah

(Haha, Childish Major)

Who in the truck with the pretty guts?

Pudgy fuck, no tummy tuck

Got the city shook, mama look

Bitches glissy glossin' it up in the back

'Bout to break her back to some rap shit

Uzi vertebrae up like murder rate, up

Pearly gates

Reason number one is I'm the son of

Trees and moons, and martyrs, authors

Right when neighbors callin' me out, I came around the hardest (oh)

Playin' target practice, made the bad bitch a target (oh)

Darlin', what's you bargain? Let get it bustin' like we Boston

Your **** all simp, blew his head like hе Marge, damn

Damn, Atlanta made it, 'Lanta made it (ow)

Out thе city, show in South beach, bought her nails, shit (ow)

Mike Wazowski, got my eye on her

Pudgy in the pussy got some power on it, like

Tell you somethin'

Who in the truck with the pretty guts?

Pudgy fuck, no tummy tuck

Got the city shook, mama look

Bitches glissy glossin' it up in the back

'Bout to break her back to some rap shit

Uzi vertebrae up like murder rate, up

Pearly gates

I don't know if I'ma get to pearly gates (pearly gates)

Standin' on top of the world, I'ma be like 7'8" (wow)

I wonder where my soul gon' go until the devil says (no)

I might got eight different baby mamas in seven states (states)

I don't care what you do in the daytime, and I better late

I don't care what you do in my whip, take your shoes off, anime

I don't drink no Henny, Casamigos be the better grade

I done put diamonds in my AP and it made me feel so late

And I got my momma a new home, it made me feel so great

Late better than ever, I feel like I'm greater than ever

Fight for this cheddar, the death get you jammed like vendetta

Who in the truck with the pretty guts?

Pudgy fuck, no tummy tuck

Got the city shook, mama look

Bitches glissy glossin' it up in the back

'Bout to break her back to some rap shit

Uzi vertebrae up like murder rate, up

Pearly gates

Reason number one is on the sun are

Trees and moons, and martyrs, authors

Right when neighbors callin' me out, I came around the hardest

Playin' target practice, made the bad bitch a target

Who you, bro? I don't know you, ****, need to move over

Who smokin'? I'm on Mars right now, I feel like Bruno

Got eight pack, loud as drum, this shit deserve a drum roll

On your track, that could brag on brag on dumb hoes (it do)

But no **** that be burnt out like that fronto (uh-uh)

I'm so serious, I be better off boolin' back on my own (ooh, ooh, ooh, yeah)

Who in the truck with the-