THE BCKRMS

In the backrooms Ima hot box Man I'm really choking on the smoke Got the sky views through the moon roof To the stars where I'm tryna go I'm back popping, the hoes flocking I'm tryna pass them to the bro She a hottie, I need her body Girl drop that ass down to the floor The double cup love, girl I'm off drugs I don't think I'll make it home Girl I'm love drunk, you like my blunt I'm tryna hit you and then float Rocking old Rick with the new fits Baby I'm on my way to a show Tryna stack chips with the money clips Man I fell in love with all bank notes Tryna stack it to the ceiling This is my new way of living I just popped me a Ritalin Man what a wonderful feeling I'm off three oxys and 'migos I'm whipping the Tesla Roadster, tell me how is you gon' take my keys ho Feeling drowsy, still speed home Feeling untouchable, you can't replace me My latest bitch went and had her a baby Said she gon' trap me, man ain't that shit crazy I dodged me a bullet just from being too lazy I dodged me a problem, girl miss me with that Her favorite body, she gon' miss me cause that So when she leave, I know she coming right back No bitch holding me down, no one keeping me back Which do I rep, I come from two homes King of the Monk and the prince of the O I carry the city, no one touching my flow Fuck the south side, fuck the west side Little nigga I come from the north Come for my life, prepare to die Little nigga, I keep me a pole In the backrooms Ima hot box Man I'm really choking on the smoke Got the sky views through the moon roof To the stars where I'm tryna go I'm back popping, the hoes flocking I'm tryna pass them to the bro She a hottie, I need her body Girl drop that ass down to the floor The double cup love, girl I'm off drugs I don't think I'll make it home Girl I'm love drunk, you like my blunt I'm tryna hit you and then float Rocking old Rick with the new fits Baby I'm on my way to a show Tryna stack chips with the money clips Man I fell in love with all bank notes Tryna make my own way to the top I'm praying to God I don't flop Way before this music shit, I been living my life like a boss Living my life like a felon Baby I'm clutching that weapon That nigga want war, we send him to hell Man his ass really thought he was going to heaven Fendi bag or the Prada bag I don't know what's big enough to hold these racks Do him bad, do him sad Man it's really true, I do not fuck with these rats Fuck these niggas in my city I press them full court like I'm Smitty That's a M-town bar, I know you don't get it Your bitch gon' choose for a couple of fifties Your bitch gon' choose when I get in her ear When she with me, you disappear Said she loyal, let's put it to the test I promise that bitch gon' be holding me dear That bitch gon' be really holding me near Feeling like I should ghost this ho She gon' be waiting for me to reappear In the backrooms Ima hot box Man I'm really choking on the smoke Got the sky views through the moon roof To the stars where I'm tryna go I'm back popping, the hoes flocking I'm tryna pass them to the bro She a hottie, I need her body Girl drop that ass down to the floor The double cup love, girl I'm off drugs I don't think I'll make it home Girl I'm love drunk, you like my blunt I'm tryna hit you and then float Rocking old Rick with the new fits Baby I'm on my way to a show Tryna stack chips with the money clips Man I fell in love with all bank notes