Gucci bag, Fendi bag, she fly Hop in the Jag, two-sixty dash, and bye That's my bitch so don't try Designer drip 'til I die Tell a hater suck a dick and die Tell a hater suck a dick and die Nigga want all the smoke Yeah, I want all the smoke
You can tell all your folks Somebody tell the priest Might wanna call the Pope I got that bread on me We in the mall with toast So fresh and so clean clean Nigga bought all the soap Gotta feed the fam Take care of all the woes Fuck you and your stylist Already got all the dope First she ain't want a nigga Now she wan' call the most Now I don't need your help You can take all your rope I'm running this shit like a principal You running in place on ellipticals My daddy raised me by different rules Show love but don't get the reciprocal I know that they hating, it's typical You mad 'cause your life is despicable They praising my words like it's biblical You can see that I trap, yeah, it's visible Goddamn, I'm the man I do what I want, you do what you can I'm throwing green, no eggs and ham I'm too fly, don't wanna land I'm all about making my money expand I don't understand, you really a fan Middle finger to you and your fam Quit talking 'bout blocks that you never ran All my bitches be tan They suck dick with no hands Make that shit disappear (Abracadabra) I'm talking alakazam (Alakazam) MIA like a flight to the yams If my niggas don't rob, they scam Got the snipers on top of the van Have you stuck like I'll be damned I'll be damned White on whites, skinny jeans and a choker I play my cards right, fuck the poker My Columbian in love with the coca You mad 'cause you broke and getting broker Can't stop shitting, I need a Pamper Fuck your cosign, I don't need no stamper I'm from the Bamaz, hotter than Tampa We get it poppin' like grape soda Fanta Hit up Jimmy, he know I'm a vamper Swerving through traffic, watch out for the cameras I'm bustin' these moves but I ain't a dancer You wasn't around when I had the Lancer So fuck that shit you selling I'm at the teller, you telling I ain't with all the yelling Head tap your watermelon If you tryna talk, email us What the fuck you really gon' tell us? We up, you niggas just jealous You old and overzealous (That's why you always fuckin' yellin', you bitch ass nigga) I got the streets going cuckoo Got money out the ass, that's buku Deuce deuce in the boot, that's a two-two Your dawg ain't even got a blues clue You a bitch ass nigga, wear a tutu These niggas too fake, that's fufu Act up, this shit'll get crucial Got rock in the cut like boo-boo Versace, Versace, Versace Designer all over my body Your girl wanna ride me, Ducati I'm one of a kind, you copy She give me that neck too sloppy We don't do 69, that's Tekashi (Tr3yway) Bitch sayin' that I'm moving wocky So I give it to her A$AP Rocky When I hit it, she fucking yell Cook, clean, and suck me well I'm the type to fuck and tell How could I not fucking tell? Hard dick and nothing else Females be something else I can never be stuck in jail She gon' put up the bail, bitch
Gucci bag, Fendi bag, she fly Hop in the Jag, two-sixty dash, and bye That's my bitch so don't try Designer drip 'til I die Tell a hater suck a dick and die Tell a hater suck a dick and die Nigga want all the smoke Yeah, I want all the smokeTeksty umieszczone na naszej stronie są własnością wytwórni, wykonawców, osób mających do nich prawa.