Lyrics
(Section 8 just straight cooked
This motherfucker up) rARE, gang
I keep that cash with me, plus I do debit
We was fucked up, I will never forget it
Pull up in foreigns, it used to be Civics
'Bow in the trap was the price on the ticket
(Trap)
Every day I'ma get fresh for these bitches
He tried to pop it, but really, I live it
Shrimp with the lobster, I'm livin' exquisite
This foot on the gas, this a Lamb', bitch
Let's get it
Fresh out the shop, got Y3 on my body
YSL fur 'cause I'm feelin' real modest
Valet thе Huracan, it's a low-body
I step out that bitch, I got Fendi on
Probably
I pop a Perc' and jump outta my body
Shе acting wicked, she must be on molly
She call me papi, she know that I pop it
Dropped a few hundred, threw Barry on Bally
Dropped a few racks and threw ice on my chest
Too many scars, you can tell that I'm blessed
I love my gang, we don't fuck with the rest
Everything custom, I Louis the vest
Call up them bitches, Gee, let's make a mess
She tryna fuck on me too, say less
Bobby gon' throw me the oop, say less
She gon' turn up
Takin' shots out her breasts
I keep that cash with me, plus I do debit
We was fucked up, I will never forget it
Pull up in foreigns, it used to be Civics
'Bow in the trap was the price on the ticket
(Pull up in foreigns)
Every day I'ma get fresh for these bitches
He tried to pop it, but really, I live it
Shrimp with the lobster, I'm livin' exquisite
This foot on the gas, this a Lamb', bitch
Let's get it (Let's go)
Fresh out the shop, got Y3 on my body
YSL fur 'cause I'm feelin' real modest
Valet the Huracan, it's a low-body
I step out that bitch, I got Fendi on
Probably
I pop a Perc' and jump outta my body (Jump)
She acting wicked, she must be on molly
She call me papi, yeah, she call me daddy
Dropped a few hundred, threw Barry on Bally
(Woah)
Met a lil' bitch with a body, she a trophy
(Woah) i don't run from shit
But I be dodgin' the police (Woah)
Perc' and Adderall, got my mind on the money
(Flow) i don't like to show it
But my heart really frozen
I can make a call right now
And get them loads in
Might just hit your line, like
"Where you at?" and "Where you goin'?"
I come from the bottom
They don't really make it outta there
Shawty want Chanel, shit
I guess I gotta buy a pair
I keep that cash with me, plus I do debit
We was fucked up, I will never forget it
Pull up in foreigns, it used to be Civics
'Bow in the trap was the price on the ticket
Every day I'ma get fresh for these bitches
He tried to pop it, but really, I live it
Shrimp with the lobster, I'm livin' exquisite
This foot on the gas, this a Lamb', bitch
Let's get it (Let's go)
Fresh out the shop, got Y3 on my body
YSL fur 'cause I'm feelin' real modest
Valet the Huracan, it's a low-body
I step out that bitch, I got Fendi on
Probably
I pop a Perc' and jump outta my body
She acting wicked, she must be on molly
She call me papi, yeah, she call me daddy
Dropped a few hundred, threw Barry on
WRITERS
KRISTOPHER CAMPBELL, NAJIBE BREWSTER, RAI SHAUN DEVANTE WILLIAMS
PUBLISHERS
Lyrics © THE MEZZO AGENCY, LLC
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