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Kid Caprio

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Look at these bitches they woke
I put a clip with a scope
I'm off the hip with the smoke
Now they be all my on dick
Cause I finally be getting that shit
That they get that they won't
I'm on a boat and these hoes tripping
My homie we dipping
I got you lil bro
Don't need no flipping
You know that we kicking
If you wanna sip and that shit will get poured
We on the road
I don't got time
Get off my dick and then get on your grind
Lit off a brick and a lick
Wit a stick and a whip
Trynna dip while I'm gripping that 9
Bitches be lying
Critics be hating
But I don't let that shit stick to my mind
Cause I be throwing that shit like I'm Payton
I know it wasn't fate and it wasn't a sign
I was in line getting my lunch
When I thought shit maybe I could just rhyme
I had been flunking all my shit for months
And I thought up in school wasn't shit I could find
I was just blind or maybe I wasn't
I worked for my cousin so I could get mine
And then I was buzzing and then I just wasn't
But homie I've found that that wasn't my prime
Now I can shine
Now I can say
Everything finally moved out of my way
Now I could get a designer like ye
Now I be spitting and writing a play
I'm in the bay grinding like Stephen
Go right to my left ain't no sliding to Klay
Ride to my to death
Ain't no riding in theft
So in spite of my breath they be hiding afraid
I been the wave
All day
All night
All day
All night
Nightly
Woah
I need smoke
Pour up drank
I be slow
Roll up dank
I need more
That's like me though
That's like me though
Fucking some bitches I'm harder than
I don't even f*ck with the stitches
Because that shit itches but this is my cardigan
And I started them they be sucking my dick
And I'm sick of the tricking and bargaining
But they seem to forget that I'm all on my shit
So I'm quicker and slicker and smarter than
I remember another December
I had to defend I pretend that i talk on the phone
Now when I'm off the gin I be coughing up phlegm
But I still got a lock on the throne
All this shit off a pen but I gotta repent
Off the hen when I'm walking at home
Cause thought it was them
And the clock hitting ten
I'll be when gone with the wind
When I'm on the patron
Tell me how these motherfuckers
Never even really thought i try to get a house
Now they looking at the shit i bought
And hoe be on my wallet
I been solid you could never even follow the accounts
And whatever you can call it I be living and I'm balling
I be tripping when I'm stalling I been brought up on an ounce
Meaning this ain't even wylin I been with my homie Kyle and
I'm about to tell the pilot how to fly in when I bounce
High in the amounts
Bitches ain't this
Flying in the clouds and I really can't miss
Crying in her blouse fucking with the same bitch
Homie I been running round trynna get chain switched not
I ain't f*ck with the sound y'all spit a lame pitch
Shit spit about a pound that shit the language
We be really getting loud I'm lit in Cambridge
You ain't really getting down I'm getting plain rich
All day
All night
All day
All night
Nightly
Woah
I need smoke
Pour up drank
I be slow
Roll up dank
I need mo
That's like me though
That's like me though
Ooooo
You were all I knew
Baby
Ooooo

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