Lyrics
Posted with Heat in Mia, like Tyler Herro
I am not no "Captain Save-a-Hoe"
Bitch I am not your hero
Imma keep on bringing Thunder
Like Westbrook with number Zero
Why you keep on talking shit?
Bitch go make you some dinero
In Janeiro, with two bitches, who like bitches
Yeah I'm sorry,
I don't give a fuck about my life
I'm dying lit like Carti
I was a jit, smoking Smarties, now it's eighths inside my woods
I be doing what I want, man you just stick to what you could
I got racks on top of racks, could give your girl a couple stacks
Love it when the grass is cut, so imma pay her for her wax
Niggas trippin', when you see my bank, bitch it's a pot of gold
I got beams, sticking on ya face, like it's ya mama mole
Man I ain't sleeping till I'm fucking dead
And I ain't dying until I'm rich
So tell ya bitch, if she ain't with the shits
Then get up off my dick
I was sixteen when I started rapping
And then I got a deal
Turned it down, cause that just ain't enough
Bitch I just want a mil
Shout out Mr. Hill
Cause he been seen the grind
I done made a couple racks, and I even had to sign
Target finder on my LSAT, like Black Ops
Fuck a Lamborghini, bitch I'd rather have a TrackHawk
Remembering the days when they was clowning me for Mohawks
Back then I couldn't get a girl
(Wait)
I couldn't get a girl to fucking talk to me
Kik message I ain't even trip when they was blocking me
Now I got these hoes throwing panties, and they stalking me
I ain't dogging no lil bitch, cause I ain't got the time
I'm just certified lover boy, yes I was feeling kind
Niggas really mad at me, cause I was on my grind
I'm chilling I be kicked back, but really I ain't scared
How the fuck you mad at me, just cause your bitch was in my bed
When I was broke I was left on read and shit
Now I got money, I'll pay a nigga to leave you dead and shit