Lyrics
It was hard to hit that road
When my mans died alone
And if you let me sleep up on yo couch
I owe you 'mo
I been up in my bag, seven days plus 24's
You a crash dummy
Ain't never been a stepper, gotta know
Only lemon pepper steppers
See the cash we blow
And my ears stay to the streets
I'm talking index to my lows
These bitches can't get enough of me
They with they Luther Vandross
And I ain't no washer and dryer
But I'm quick to spin hoes
I need a fee to argue, bands
You gotta pay those
You riding in a janky whip
The thugs flip those
Clips on, yo section had a teddy bear on every pole
Sorry for my language 'ma i'm in the studio
But you the same lady told me, turn yo bully on
So if they say it's up with me
You know what time i'm on
Leave the lights on for me
I'll turn 'em off when I get home
Wunna pack I'm loaded got me
Got me high I'm in my zone
Lazy got the torch, I'm high status with my throne
Pay me in flowers, I did this shit all by my own
Crack them gates for my n*****
Three minutes on the phone
Crack them gates for my n****
Cause we all want 'em home
And my doggy always touch down
He be scoring with the bone
And if you ever loved me right
I swear I love you 'mo
The realest bitch breathing
I ain't never had to boast
And these n***** would vouch
But they know better than to post
And you know that's why I just keep it classy,
I ain't worried bout what a bitch tweeting
Unless she at me
Come get at me
Punk ass bitch
I ain't worried about no weak ass bitch
You bitches been week
Care about y'all
Look, I went hard from the start with it
Put my heart in it
And it's true
You don't end the race with who you start with
And I been in a few races
Thats why i'm heartless
I just be here to finish what they think they started
Doing all this rap shit
Just to give my son my royalties
Making sure he straight
Be my number one priority
And if he wanna hit LayZ
He 'trynna go crazy
What the fuck I look like having another n**** baby
New Honda '22 and AMG
That's why y'all hate me
I know two bitches who link up
Because they hate me
I know four hoes who chop me up
All because they n**** love me
But if only if they knew
I treat they boo's like they my cuddy
The funny thing is, i love money
I don't want no hubby
N**** did I stutter, you heard me right
Get the fuck from, from me
If you put a bag inside my bag
You could get near me
I love when the richest in the room
Can hear what i'm thinking
If he look my way
The mink extension
'Gon get to blinking
Make him leave his girl
And she was pissed
And I know she's stinkin'
Playing on her top
And make her stop, ion' like her thinking
Gave me twenty five
I'm his hoes thirteenth reason
Bitch we ball forever
Money don't go out of season
If she on my frontline
I'm a make her leave bleeding
When Nani, Car, and TT slide
And all these n***** speaking
I move hella quiet
Getting money still creeping
WRITERS
Dalaisja Whitlow
PUBLISHERS
Lyrics © O/B/O DistroKid
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Top Emotion
Enjoyment
Sentiment
Theme
Sexual
