Текст песни
Pulling up
I got eyes on me
Apologies I'm so deaf
Those who die on me
Y'all get buried on spot when I rock
And you should know this
No condolence to the soulless
Forgot what the goal is
Every story
It's obvious what your role is
You Fox News
I stop crews
With hot tools
Lyrical bullets blow through your top fool
I drop jewels
Like big man with brick hands
Black hole flow
Go slow no quicksand
Brain twitch itch
Bout as soon I hear the kicks man
Turning like a spoke
But I'm more like the kickstand
Third eye pop
If you think you trying a quick scam
Now scram quick
I'm finna hop in the van lit
Uber XL got enough room
So the fam fit
On the damn strip
When the cam flip
Get a fan pic
No rap
She a fan of my steeze tho
I get props in my city
On the block feeling pretty
Gold chain chilly
Net worth bout a milly
Can't touch me but ya hoes gon feel me
Can't touch me but ya hoes gon feel me
I get props in my city
On the block feeling pretty
Gold chain chilly
Net worth bout a milly
Can't touch me but ya hoes gon feel me
I got 99 problems and your bitch be one
I'm at the bar with a card
That swipe for no bitch
I'm hopeless
No romantic I'm manic
When it comes to the time that I got
Cuz I don't plan it
I look like a damn mechanic
I'm shooting my shot
And based on my aim
It's a panoramic
But I don't trip
Unless I'm flying commercial
I don't got no baggage
Yo luggage ride in a circle
Avoid drama to ensure commas