Letras
Yeah, make your bitch go crazy
Come on, yeah, come on
Yeah
Yeah
Okay, what's up, how you doing
My name Baby, I'm that guy
These niggas hate my soul
They couldn't even tell you why
I just left the bank, there's onion on me, make a nigga cry
The real A's got a black face, now it's orange, it look like pumpkin pie
I done graduated, poppin' shit, go check my resume
Don't need no documents, I'm confident
You niggas really broke, y'all acting rich, but y'all the opposite
Just to stay afloat, I count these racks and I ain't stopping it
Man, y'all niggas hoes
Your bitch, she love the game, she might paint chronic on her toes
Your bitch tryna be the main, but I can't wipe none of these hoes
Bitch, I'm on my body like a worker
I get busy, turn that rifle to a dancer
With this stick, make him get G
Motion sickness, all this fuckin' spending
This shit got me dizzy
Bro just passed me, got that Smith & Wesson
He just grabbed a semi
She just ate it, she ain't say her blessing
This hoe ain't even Christian
Sippin' Quagen, it just numbed on my tongue, I can't finish my sentence
I know he don't fuck with me, that's cause he can't fuck with me
He say he always keep the 100, I guess that means I'm above 50
New wheel, tank off, dirty clip
Face soft, fuck that got my rock soft
Earrings look like golf balls
New bitch, top off, you would think it's Mardi Gras
I'm in this bitch, I'm going stupid
Man, you niggas ain't smart at all
I told that bitch no, I'm not cupid
I can't love you, not at all
I know them boys, they really do it
I don't, let me make this call
Yeah, I'm a monster, baby
Pull up in that black truck, not a taco, baby
100, baby
Masked up, all black, like I'm, like I'm Donda, baby
Casa, baby
Got a Rousey, but the bitch ain't ridin' the baby