Checkmate (feat. Lil Skies)
The Martianz
VHS
Yeah
Saint Laurent purse for the queen, I got some racks in my jeans (yeah-yeah)
Ain't even room for the P's, I make a hoe look for me (yeah-yeah)
Told him, "Might need some beats, send me a pack for the free"(yeah-yeah)
I hit the stu' with the team, everyone of us a king, yeah
I hit recline and I sit back, never take a break, no KitKat, yeah-yeah
I'm speaking nothing but big facts, where you goin', where you get that?
Your jewelry fake that's a big cap, 5 percent tint on the Maybach
Pull up like where is my cake at?
My niggas' whippin the foreigns, our pockets enormous
We don't do nothing but pay cash
Make sure y'all niggas alive when you're in the same room
Whole time you workin' 9 to 5 except you show up late too, yeah
The reason that you keep on trippin' is cause' you ain't lace shoes
I don't be trippin' on internet bullshit 'cause all of that shit was some fake news
We got the suicide-suicide doors, some models at the crib and they naked on the floor
Walkin' around on the tip of they toes, but don't call her phone, she get done by the bros
'Cause you know the code, I'm just gonna hit it and go
Can't show no love to a hoe
She took the load, my neck and wrist on froze
Reason my heart so
I don't wanna leave no stain
I don't wanna hit no lick
I didn't mean to break my bank
Then I went and got some more drip
I didn't mean to pour this drink
But I've never meant to stay in this place
Wish it never would've caught that case
We'll leave that for the blame
Yeah
Saint Laurent purse for the queen, I got some racks in my jeans
Ain't even room for the P's, I make her hollar for me
Told him, "Might need some beats, send me a pack for the free"
I hit the stu' with the team, everyone of us a king, yeah
I hit recline and I sit back, never take a break, no KitKat, yeah-yeah
I'm speaking nothing but big facts, where you goin', where you get that?
Your jewelry fake that's a big cap, 5% tint on the Maybach
Pull up like where is my cake at?
My niggas' whippin the foreigns, our pockets enormous
We don't do nothing but pay cash
We don't do nothing but pay cash
Now I just pulled up in a Maybach
I'ma bust on that bitch, where her face at?
I'ma fuck around, give her a face tat
All these drugs we can never relapse
Smokin' gas always keep a good batch
Lil' shorty got an attitude, I'm gonna calm it down with a couple racks
Thirteen hundred for a Amiri jeans
We be drippin' like a pint of lean
I can tell you wasn't on the team
Lame nigga didn't make the league
Feel the love, but they envy me with the topshotters, I'm an MVP
Got straight heat from my enemies
They can get deceased, be a memory
Saint Laurent purse for the queen, I got some racks in my jeans
Ain't even room for the P's, I make her hollar for me
Told him, "Might need some beats, send me a pack for the free"
I hit the stu' with the team, everyone of us a king, yeah
I hit recline and I sit back, never take a break, no KitKat, yeah-yeah
I'm speaking nothing but big facts, where you goin', where you get that?
Your jewelry fake that's a big cap, 5% tint on the Maybach
Pull up like where is my cake at?
My niggas' whippin the foreigns, our pockets enormous
We don't do nothing but pay cash
VHS
Yeah
Saint Laurent purse for the queen, I got some racks in my jeans (yeah-yeah)
Ain't even room for the P's, I make a hoe look for me (yeah-yeah)
Told him, "Might need some beats, send me a pack for the free"(yeah-yeah)
I hit the stu' with the team, everyone of us a king, yeah
I hit recline and I sit back, never take a break, no KitKat, yeah-yeah
I'm speaking nothing but big facts, where you goin', where you get that?
Your jewelry fake that's a big cap, 5 percent tint on the Maybach
Pull up like where is my cake at?
My niggas' whippin the foreigns, our pockets enormous
We don't do nothing but pay cash
Make sure y'all niggas alive when you're in the same room
Whole time you workin' 9 to 5 except you show up late too, yeah
The reason that you keep on trippin' is cause' you ain't lace shoes
I don't be trippin' on internet bullshit 'cause all of that shit was some fake news
We got the suicide-suicide doors, some models at the crib and they naked on the floor
Walkin' around on the tip of they toes, but don't call her phone, she get done by the bros
'Cause you know the code, I'm just gonna hit it and go
Can't show no love to a hoe
She took the load, my neck and wrist on froze
Reason my heart so
I don't wanna leave no stain
I don't wanna hit no lick
I didn't mean to break my bank
Then I went and got some more drip
I didn't mean to pour this drink
But I've never meant to stay in this place
Wish it never would've caught that case
We'll leave that for the blame
Yeah
Saint Laurent purse for the queen, I got some racks in my jeans
Ain't even room for the P's, I make her hollar for me
Told him, "Might need some beats, send me a pack for the free"
I hit the stu' with the team, everyone of us a king, yeah
I hit recline and I sit back, never take a break, no KitKat, yeah-yeah
I'm speaking nothing but big facts, where you goin', where you get that?
Your jewelry fake that's a big cap, 5% tint on the Maybach
Pull up like where is my cake at?
My niggas' whippin the foreigns, our pockets enormous
We don't do nothing but pay cash
We don't do nothing but pay cash
Now I just pulled up in a Maybach
I'ma bust on that bitch, where her face at?
I'ma fuck around, give her a face tat
All these drugs we can never relapse
Smokin' gas always keep a good batch
Lil' shorty got an attitude, I'm gonna calm it down with a couple racks
Thirteen hundred for a Amiri jeans
We be drippin' like a pint of lean
I can tell you wasn't on the team
Lame nigga didn't make the league
Feel the love, but they envy me with the topshotters, I'm an MVP
Got straight heat from my enemies
They can get deceased, be a memory
Saint Laurent purse for the queen, I got some racks in my jeans
Ain't even room for the P's, I make her hollar for me
Told him, "Might need some beats, send me a pack for the free"
I hit the stu' with the team, everyone of us a king, yeah
I hit recline and I sit back, never take a break, no KitKat, yeah-yeah
I'm speaking nothing but big facts, where you goin', where you get that?
Your jewelry fake that's a big cap, 5% tint on the Maybach
Pull up like where is my cake at?
My niggas' whippin the foreigns, our pockets enormous
We don't do nothing but pay cash
Credits
Writer(s): Kimetrius Foose, Mitch Cooper, Nelida Yew
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com
Link
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