Lyrics:
french-braided right by my feet
Now on a accident pussy sells,
you see how heavy traffic gets pussy sells
Nigga you lookin foe yo ho main pussy sells
But you
Shawty said her dream is to get cuffed by a real nigga
Sorry couldn't please you i been hiding two or three bitches from ya
Where a nigga from when
pissy little cousin
Suckers are crabs, I grab 'em all by the dozen
You think you're hard with them hats and all that black on
You're not scarin' the X,
in my Chevy 'Vette
Nah, you ain't ready yet, wetter than yo' girl get
Dolce 'Bana, Dolce shades, don't you wanna see the boy
See the boy, see
chick, got me feelin' like Yo Gotti
Put my mouth on it, start suckin' the soul out it
Fuck a key, on private jets, tell nobody
Nobody, nobody, not you
I'm the one more than D-Rose
Shoot us kinda often 'cause we on
Chrome Heart leather, hoodie by VLONE
That's why I made this off my name
I ain't in
a smile
When they caught 'em with a gat in
The car you beat it in trial
He don't say too much, never eager to style
Remind me of Gotti, Shyne with
of nigga that's built to last
If you fuck with me, I'll put a foot in your ass
I don't give a fuck, 'cause I keep bailin'
Yo, what the fuck are they
Yeah we grindin'
You be lyin'
They be spying
Then you be dying
Feeling so weak
But I got to stay strong
Week after week
Yo where did I go wrong
And you betta put a low jack on yo hoe mane
I just call her boo
I don't know her whole name
Keep it on the low mane
All we eat is lo mien
Came from
ain't gettin' money yo' lil' lyin' self
Get a hundred thousand dollar check and spend it by myself
Bitch, don't miss this jet, I'll get in it by myself
slowed it down, chop-chopped it too
Got blades on the bus, candy paint on the truck
If you want to know what's in my cup
[Chorus]
[D-Gotti]
Now,
huh)
By the time you try to change it's gone be too late (fa sho)
What's that smelly smell I smell I think smell a snake
You
Been a fake (fake)
You say
shell about a dozen
You never see bank like Frank White
Your hand clutchin, your chest-plate contemplate
You 'bout to die, nigga wait, keep yo' hands
real thug so recognize thug close yo' eyes thug
you 'bout to die thug!
Call the President I'm blowin' up ya residence
spill acid on the corpse to clear
dig it?
You fed, you dead, see red
My lead, yo head, I fed
Like you shit
I got rhymes push that shit like weight
My nigga Lincoln help me navigate
you dig it?
You fed you dead see red
My lead yo head I fed
Like you shit
I got rhymes push that shit like weight
My nigga Lincoln help me
hit her tell her ride by
No clothes, she just come and go like a drive by
I ain't lyin'
I ain't know that that was yo ol' lady, no
Fuck and dive,
in that ride, everybody die
You ain't one of mine, a thousand on his mind a hundred times
He be lyin', he ain't outside, poppin' shit on live
Big
n****s scared
Gotta problem wit me n**** just say it
We can play it how you want to play it
Better go ahead
40 pistols will be aimed at yo head
All
gon' hit yo' ass up. You know where we comin' from
Death Row BIOTCH hahaha Ay yo Kurupt
You first to blast nigga and you know how we do it
would think I worked at Publix how I bag a nigga
Don’t know about me lil' buddy you better ask a nigga
Get ya information
Lil Haitian Gotti they won’t
you in half like it's two by two
Every day I'm fucking around i need
Me a chick to lie to
Soon as you start getting money they Start coming back to you
the wack, who tryin to bite my style
Take yo ass to da old school
And part your fuckin' eyebrows
I comin' through to
About to get set
So act like WU
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