Lyrics: jcorey king
Music: jcorey king
Jump out, ooh
Ooh, what? (Haha)
(I got two more Ferraris, now)
(I just told Richie, "We rich")
What?
I don't even do no dissin', trigger finger itchin'
I put bag on that boy, I call plays on blitzes (Huh)
All these niggas sissy, gangsters in my mentions (What?)
I put the button on my glizzy, ride 'round with that switchy
I put this b***h on the mother****in' Glock
I'm finna pop at ya top (Bop)
Niggas be actin' like real hoes
These niggas could never be opps
They steal the swag whenever I drop
I got this ho, she on lock (Hmm)
I'm havin' shooters, I'm havin' mops
Could **** 'round and clean up ya block
I might call my boys 360, way they go 'round spinnin' (Mm)
I got some drank, I got some mud, codeine in my kidney
I'm havin' rank, that boy a dub, nigga do too much b***hin' (Woo)
And it ain't nun' it ain't, show fake love
The trigger could really get tricky
I got some drank, sippin' on drank
Post on the block like a hank
**** what you think
I'm breakin' the bank, and my shooter ridin' the tank
I pour fours with my woes, while we **** on hoes (What?)
I hop out the 'Cat, beat her doors, leave her p***y swole
I don't even do no dissin', trigger finger itchin' (Huh)
I put bag on that boy, I call plays on blitzes
All these niggas sissy, gangsters in my mentions (Woo)
I put the button on my glizzy, ride 'round with that switchy
I put this b***h on the mother****in' Glock
I'm finna pop at ya top (Pop at ya top)
Niggas be actin' like real hoes
These niggas could never be opps
They steal the swag whenever I drop
I got this ho, she on lock (Hmm)
I'm havin' shooters, I'm havin' mops
Could **** 'round and clean up ya block
Clean up ya block