I Really Do This
(Uh, uh)
(Uh, yeah)
Lil bitch all on my dick and
She spitting it's dripping she licking
I'm sipping I'm tripping I'm flipping
I bust send her ass to the kitchen
After I eat then I'm dipping
Back to the boys yeah we whipping
Fuck around turn into hitmen
Race down the street gears shifting
Gears shifting when we're running missions
I'll take your bitch, her permission
Says she loves me, I'm indifferent
That dick gave her an addiction
Pussy niggas in their feelings
Cuz I'm fucking all their bitches
Niggas hungry for some beef then imma cook em in the skillet
I'm mixing I'm flipping you know I stay pimping
I'm sipping I'm sniffing that coke steady dripping
I'm balling so hard like a young Scotty Pippin
Young SK catch bodies like it's a COD mission
These bitches play my flute like their in an orchestra
Make em moan in harmony like the conductor
Way I run trains you would think I'm a conductor (yeah)
Got niggas boolin, I really do this
Got niggas coolin, I really do this
See how I'm moving, I really do this
Make fire music, you know I do bitch
Back on verse two now
Didn't want me before but they're digging my new style
All your threats are futile
Don't fuck with my hittas them niggas be too wild
You out working late while
I'm taking your bitch fucking her like it's Nubile
Man please don't get too riled
It's only one night I'll give her right back tomorrow
Ain't doing this shit for the fame
I'm just talking my shit cuz I got shit to say
I ain't trynna diss nobody else in the game
But I know that a nigga could drop a couple names
These rappers fake trappers they really be lame
Ghost writers don't know a muhfuckin thing
Bout busting their ass just to make some loose change
Man these rappers straight phoney y'all should really be ashamed (uh)
Whatchu know bout this
Whatchu know bout that
You ain't really bout it nigga don't rap
Whatchu know about hitting licks on a trap
Busting shots then taking off like it's track
Niggas acting hard on the gram but in real life
They ain't really living life like that
Niggas talking shit online got em begging for their lives
And I didn't even pull a strap
If you really bout it blood imma pull up with some thugs
Leave a nigga bleeding from his fucking cap
Never catch me lacking nigga I ain't capping
Imma put a hole in your fucking fams
When you see me out in person I got my shooters lurking
But you won't know until they hit your mans
Don't you come around me trynna fucking clown me
Pussy nigga imma kill you where you fucking stand
(Yeah, yeah)
(Kash made the beat I killed it nigga)
(Ha)
(Nate Spice)
(Uh, yeah)
Lil bitch all on my dick and
She spitting it's dripping she licking
I'm sipping I'm tripping I'm flipping
I bust send her ass to the kitchen
After I eat then I'm dipping
Back to the boys yeah we whipping
Fuck around turn into hitmen
Race down the street gears shifting
Gears shifting when we're running missions
I'll take your bitch, her permission
Says she loves me, I'm indifferent
That dick gave her an addiction
Pussy niggas in their feelings
Cuz I'm fucking all their bitches
Niggas hungry for some beef then imma cook em in the skillet
I'm mixing I'm flipping you know I stay pimping
I'm sipping I'm sniffing that coke steady dripping
I'm balling so hard like a young Scotty Pippin
Young SK catch bodies like it's a COD mission
These bitches play my flute like their in an orchestra
Make em moan in harmony like the conductor
Way I run trains you would think I'm a conductor (yeah)
Got niggas boolin, I really do this
Got niggas coolin, I really do this
See how I'm moving, I really do this
Make fire music, you know I do bitch
Back on verse two now
Didn't want me before but they're digging my new style
All your threats are futile
Don't fuck with my hittas them niggas be too wild
You out working late while
I'm taking your bitch fucking her like it's Nubile
Man please don't get too riled
It's only one night I'll give her right back tomorrow
Ain't doing this shit for the fame
I'm just talking my shit cuz I got shit to say
I ain't trynna diss nobody else in the game
But I know that a nigga could drop a couple names
These rappers fake trappers they really be lame
Ghost writers don't know a muhfuckin thing
Bout busting their ass just to make some loose change
Man these rappers straight phoney y'all should really be ashamed (uh)
Whatchu know bout this
Whatchu know bout that
You ain't really bout it nigga don't rap
Whatchu know about hitting licks on a trap
Busting shots then taking off like it's track
Niggas acting hard on the gram but in real life
They ain't really living life like that
Niggas talking shit online got em begging for their lives
And I didn't even pull a strap
If you really bout it blood imma pull up with some thugs
Leave a nigga bleeding from his fucking cap
Never catch me lacking nigga I ain't capping
Imma put a hole in your fucking fams
When you see me out in person I got my shooters lurking
But you won't know until they hit your mans
Don't you come around me trynna fucking clown me
Pussy nigga imma kill you where you fucking stand
(Yeah, yeah)
(Kash made the beat I killed it nigga)
(Ha)
(Nate Spice)
Credits
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