Napkin

Aw shit, that double cup spillin' on my shirt
Lookin' like a stain, Imma hit you for the perk
Bitch, I need a break, I be puttin' in the work
I get hella dead like my presidents, you heard?
Aye, get money, wait, boy I need a napkin
I got the juice and the sauce, what you packin'?
My shit is timeless, look at these backends
I can just tell you can't handle this action

Ridin' round town hella geeked up
Crusin' down the street in a all black bimmer
So cold, 12 said put your hands up
I don't give a fuck, lil bitch, get your bands up
Ridin' round town hella geeked up
Crusin' down the street in a all black bimmer
So cold, 12 said put your hands up
I don't give a fuck, lil bitch, get your bands up

Ask me where I'm at, tell that boy I be tucked off
Ask me again, wonder why he gon' run off
Drip all this apple sauce, not talkin' criss cross
Look at me wrong, then I guess we could pop off
Faded, dawg, got me leanin', got me skatin', dawg
Cannot handle conversation, dawg
Don't pull up on me sharin' information, dawg
I'm not complaisant, dawg, I'm on vacation, dawg
See, me and all brothers know we on all shit
If you fuckin' with the boys, then you gone, off rip
Six deep and we posted on our clique shit, bitch
I just bought cream soda, we can take another trip
Money on my mind, I be thinkin' bout the bag
Cups in my hand and the pants full of cash
Bar after bar like I'm spittin' straight gas
And I keep it on me like I carry on a flask, ahoy

Ridin' round town hella geeked up
Crusin' down the street in a all black bimmer
So cold, 12 said put your hands up
I don't give a fuck, lil bitch, get your bands up
Ridin' round town hella geeked up
Crusin' down the street in a all black bimmer
So cold, 12 said put your hands up
I don't give a fuck, lil bitch, get your bands up



Credits
Writer(s): Ryan Dizon
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com

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