Key Lime OG
Rico, Rico, Rico, Rico
Who is Mike going crazy
Aye
I just went to Benihana
And I'm smoking sheets and funnel
You a wannabe, who wanna be (woah)
I'm only 'bout the commas (yeah, yeah, yeah)
See me in the street on any day
I'm really 'bout that drama (haha, yeah)
And you know I keep the heat on me
Ain't talkin' bout the summer
Smoking Key Lime OG (what?)
And this car got two seats (it got two seats)
When I hop out it dank
You can smell it on me
Handle that shit myself
I ain't gon' call police (huh, what?)
Keep that bitch on a leash (woah)
Or keep that bitch from 'round me
Yeah, yeah
Walkin' wit' a attitude like what's the problem? (What's the problem hoe?)
I don't hang with DMX I'm with some (huh?) Ruff Ryders
Gas got me high as shit but no, I ain't the pilot (I ain't the, huh?)
I'm the whole meal you hangin' (huh?) with a whole biter (yeah)
I was hustling when these niggas was wearing Spyder (huh?)
And I'm servin' like I'm workin' in a fuckin' diner (yeah, yeah)
Bitch I been the flame, I just need a lighter (need a lighter)
I'm a doer all these bitches lookin' like some mighters (yeah)
With the touch I got the Midas (I got the Midas)
Drinkin' Ace of Spades, you drinkin' apple cider (apple cider)
When I see that hoe, I'ma fuckin' fight her (I'ma fuckin' fight her)
Mike Tyson (huh?), I'ma fuckin' bite her (bitch, yuh)
Huh, shit! Where my lighter? (Where my lighter?)
I know that I'll be the best, I don't need no title (I don't need no title)
Walk up in the ring, who my fuckin' rival? (Who my rival?)
Nigga fuck that, go grab the rifle (huh, huh, yeah)
Spray the champagne, my nigga's get to wildin' (woah, yeah)
Got your bitch mad, she saying we childish (yeah, huh, yeah)
I'm just tryna flex on anyone who doubt it (woah, woah, woah)
Your jewelry fake boy, it's lookin' real cloudy (Rico, Rico, yeah)
I'm fresh to death, my outfit 'bout to have a bounty (yeah)
Walk up in the club, they don't pat down me (huh, yeah, yeah)
I'm gettin' money while these bitches out here lounging (yeah, woah, yeah)
Been workin' all week, my bank account astounding
Sm-smoking Key Lime OG
And this car got two seats
When-when I hop out it dank
You-you can smell it on me
Handle that shit myself
I ain't gon' call police
Keep that bitch on a leash
Or keep that bitch from 'round me
(Smoking Key Lime OG)
And this car got two seats
When (when I hop out it dank)
You-you can smell it on me
(Handle that shit myself)
I-I ain't gon' call police
Keep that bitch on a leash
Or keep that bitch from 'round me
Yeah, yeah
Who is Mike going crazy
Aye
I just went to Benihana
And I'm smoking sheets and funnel
You a wannabe, who wanna be (woah)
I'm only 'bout the commas (yeah, yeah, yeah)
See me in the street on any day
I'm really 'bout that drama (haha, yeah)
And you know I keep the heat on me
Ain't talkin' bout the summer
Smoking Key Lime OG (what?)
And this car got two seats (it got two seats)
When I hop out it dank
You can smell it on me
Handle that shit myself
I ain't gon' call police (huh, what?)
Keep that bitch on a leash (woah)
Or keep that bitch from 'round me
Yeah, yeah
Walkin' wit' a attitude like what's the problem? (What's the problem hoe?)
I don't hang with DMX I'm with some (huh?) Ruff Ryders
Gas got me high as shit but no, I ain't the pilot (I ain't the, huh?)
I'm the whole meal you hangin' (huh?) with a whole biter (yeah)
I was hustling when these niggas was wearing Spyder (huh?)
And I'm servin' like I'm workin' in a fuckin' diner (yeah, yeah)
Bitch I been the flame, I just need a lighter (need a lighter)
I'm a doer all these bitches lookin' like some mighters (yeah)
With the touch I got the Midas (I got the Midas)
Drinkin' Ace of Spades, you drinkin' apple cider (apple cider)
When I see that hoe, I'ma fuckin' fight her (I'ma fuckin' fight her)
Mike Tyson (huh?), I'ma fuckin' bite her (bitch, yuh)
Huh, shit! Where my lighter? (Where my lighter?)
I know that I'll be the best, I don't need no title (I don't need no title)
Walk up in the ring, who my fuckin' rival? (Who my rival?)
Nigga fuck that, go grab the rifle (huh, huh, yeah)
Spray the champagne, my nigga's get to wildin' (woah, yeah)
Got your bitch mad, she saying we childish (yeah, huh, yeah)
I'm just tryna flex on anyone who doubt it (woah, woah, woah)
Your jewelry fake boy, it's lookin' real cloudy (Rico, Rico, yeah)
I'm fresh to death, my outfit 'bout to have a bounty (yeah)
Walk up in the club, they don't pat down me (huh, yeah, yeah)
I'm gettin' money while these bitches out here lounging (yeah, woah, yeah)
Been workin' all week, my bank account astounding
Sm-smoking Key Lime OG
And this car got two seats
When-when I hop out it dank
You-you can smell it on me
Handle that shit myself
I ain't gon' call police
Keep that bitch on a leash
Or keep that bitch from 'round me
(Smoking Key Lime OG)
And this car got two seats
When (when I hop out it dank)
You-you can smell it on me
(Handle that shit myself)
I-I ain't gon' call police
Keep that bitch on a leash
Or keep that bitch from 'round me
Yeah, yeah
Credits
Writer(s): Michael Williams, Maria Kelly, Malik Foxx Parker
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com
Link
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