It's Us (feat. Luh Tyler)

It's like I'm proud of what I did, but I don't think I did enough

Just started my career, ****, wait till I get done

I'm was— hold, bitch

Run it back

It's like I'm proud of what I did, but I don't think I did enough (I didn't)

Just started my career, ****, wait till I get done

I was buying bows just so I can make some money, ****

Then I made some money, now I do it just because

You won't see the stick 'cause we keep them bitches tucked

Come fuck with my side, bae, we turning bitches up

Go say a couple lines, then go put something' in my cup

When they see tire marks on the concrete, boy, they think it's us

In a striker, I'm tryna strike a lil' bitch, I feel like Yachty

You wouldn't look like money if you taped it on your body

You want me to take you serious, you better make a fucking deposit

****, y'all can't slide for shit, I'm finna to take y'all ass to hockey

I don't know her name, I just called her ass bae (Bae)

She don't know me neither, she just called my ass Fxce (Gang)

Bitches in the city, I got bitches out of state

I got bitches with some inches, I got bitches with a lace

I got a bitch that live in Florida, it's hot as fuck but she cold as hell

Before you lock me up, let me sip the cup before I go to jail

You want 50,000 for a what? you can go to hell

Took a loan out on my own money, now I owe myself

You won't see the stick 'cause we keep them bitches tucked

Come fuck with my side, bae, we turning bitches up

Go say a couple lines, then go put something' in my cup

When they see tire marks on the concrete, boy, they think it's us

Why the fuck they always on my dick? **** sus (What?)

How the fuck my brodie got the stick in the club? (How?)

Talkin' money, I'ma get it quick, run it up (Yeah)

You tryna book me, I'll rob that bitch for a dub (On gang)

**** flyer than a bird, but you can't play me like a duck

Why you bought that bitch a purse, ****? You ain't even fuck (Damn)

Ridin' with that—, know we gotta keep it tucked

Shh, yeah

Man, this shit come from the grind, ****, none of this ain't luck (On God)

Can't believe a **** signed, now I'm up a million-plus (Huh?)

Boy, your chain don't even shine, that shit kinda lookin' rust (Damn)

Money on my mind, gettin' chicken, that's a must (Yeah)

She keep blowin' up my line, I only hit your bitch once (What?)

I don't got no feelings 'cause I rolled 'em in a blunt

Gas in my 'Wood, this shit smellin' like a skunk (Ugh)

The plug on the way, fifty P's in the trunk (On God)

Can barely breathe, got exotic weed in my lungs (Yeah)

I got ten in my right pocket, ten in my left (Yeah)

He wasn't talkin' money to me, so I acted like I'm deaf (Damn)

Ain't nobody give it to me, went and got it by myself (Yeah)

All these **** hatin' on me, I just tell 'em go to hell (Go to hell)

I just want the head, told the bitch to use her noggin (Ugh)

You don't got no bread, ****, you be window shoppin' (Damn)

The fans love the music, they like, "Tyler, when you droppin'?" (On God)

I hope he don't gotta use it, but my brodie keep the rocket (Rrah)

You won't see the stick 'cause we keep them bitches tucked

Come fuck with my side, bae, we turning bitches up

Go say a couple lines, then go put something' in my cup

When they see tire marks on the concrete, boy, they think it's us