Checks
Yea, yea, yea
Run these checks up
Check
Check
We stacking racks, we running checks hollup
We rolling bands, hollup, Don't mean to flex
We stacking racks, we running checks hollup
We rolling bands, hollup, Don't mean to flex
Yea, yea, yea
Big Gucci Bag filled with racks, yeah
You be sending shots, we send em' back, yeah
Trey he keep a .9mm,
We gon' pull up, you gon' hide
Lil bitch, I be in the Cut
I'm rolling gas, I lost my mind
Big Gucci Bag filled with racks, yeah
You be sending shots, we send em' back, yeah
Trey he keep a .9mm,
We gon' pull up, you gon' hide
Lil bitch, I be in the Cut
I'm rolling gas, I lost my mind
Gotta knife, dawg I got stripes, dawg
"Who talking shit, Trey?" It's some white, dawg
It's some nose-wipe (Wipe), that's a slime (Slime)
Chopper singin' (Singin'), Ginuwine (Ginuwine)
I got on Air Ones (Damn), cost a nine (Nine)
On Electric road (Electric), all the time (Everytime)
I be cheatin' (Nah), she be cryin' (Cry)
She tell the truth, I be lyin' (I be lyin')
Big Gucci Bag filled with racks, yeah
You be sending shots, we send em' back, yeah
Trey he keep a .9mm,
We gon' pull up, you gon' hide
Lil bitch, I be in the Cut
I'm rolling gas, I lost my mind
Big Gucci Bag filled with racks, yeah
You be sending shots, we send em' back, yeah
Trey he keep a .9mm,
We gon' pull up, you gon' hide
Lil bitch, I be in the Cut
I'm rolling gas, I lost my mind
If you talking shit (Savage), issa Bet (Issa Bet)
Witha profit, dawg (Big racks), that's a net (Got it on score)
I got real hitters, (I got real hitters) they gravedigger (Graves)
Gotta stripper, (Yea, yea) she a babysitter (Baby, baby)
This a drawin' (It's Picasso), it's a foreign (Foreign, skrrrrt)
This look fun (This looks fun), that looks borin' (That looks dumb)
Girl, stop textin' me so much, you 'nnoying (Bitch, stop texting me)
This bloody LaFerrari, cost a fortune (Skrrt skrrrrrt)
Don't mean flex (Flex), I got racks (I got racks)
Got a coolin' system, witha Tec (Tec, Tec, Tec)
If your bitch spend the night, issa sex (Slime)
If your watch ain't cost a hundred, it ain't shit (It ain't shit, slime)
Gotta duffle bag (Duffle), and its Goyard (Goyard)
Playin 2k (Hoop), y'all are try hards (Try hard, try hard)
My bag VVS (VVS), and it's swimmin' (Swimmin')
I'm a gang banger (Gang), I'm lieutenant
Gotta 40 (Forty, shorty), witha 30 (Thirty, thirty)
And a Drum (Issa dessy), y'all not ready (Y'all ain't ready)
That's on god (Bitch on god), bitch I'm petty (The most)
Witha ton of these (Issa ton), Six God heavy (Six God heavy, aye)
Big Gucci Bag filled with racks, yeah
You be sending shots, we send em' back, yeah
Trey he keep a .9mm
We gon' pull up, you gon' hide
Lil bitch, I be in the Cut
I'm rolling gas, I lost my mind
Big Gucci Bag filled with racks, yeah
You be sending shots, we send em' back, yeah
Trey he keep a .9mm
We gon' pull up, you gon' hide
Lil bitch, I be in the Cut
I'm rolling gas, I lost my mind
Run these checks up
Check
Check
We stacking racks, we running checks hollup
We rolling bands, hollup, Don't mean to flex
We stacking racks, we running checks hollup
We rolling bands, hollup, Don't mean to flex
Yea, yea, yea
Big Gucci Bag filled with racks, yeah
You be sending shots, we send em' back, yeah
Trey he keep a .9mm,
We gon' pull up, you gon' hide
Lil bitch, I be in the Cut
I'm rolling gas, I lost my mind
Big Gucci Bag filled with racks, yeah
You be sending shots, we send em' back, yeah
Trey he keep a .9mm,
We gon' pull up, you gon' hide
Lil bitch, I be in the Cut
I'm rolling gas, I lost my mind
Gotta knife, dawg I got stripes, dawg
"Who talking shit, Trey?" It's some white, dawg
It's some nose-wipe (Wipe), that's a slime (Slime)
Chopper singin' (Singin'), Ginuwine (Ginuwine)
I got on Air Ones (Damn), cost a nine (Nine)
On Electric road (Electric), all the time (Everytime)
I be cheatin' (Nah), she be cryin' (Cry)
She tell the truth, I be lyin' (I be lyin')
Big Gucci Bag filled with racks, yeah
You be sending shots, we send em' back, yeah
Trey he keep a .9mm,
We gon' pull up, you gon' hide
Lil bitch, I be in the Cut
I'm rolling gas, I lost my mind
Big Gucci Bag filled with racks, yeah
You be sending shots, we send em' back, yeah
Trey he keep a .9mm,
We gon' pull up, you gon' hide
Lil bitch, I be in the Cut
I'm rolling gas, I lost my mind
If you talking shit (Savage), issa Bet (Issa Bet)
Witha profit, dawg (Big racks), that's a net (Got it on score)
I got real hitters, (I got real hitters) they gravedigger (Graves)
Gotta stripper, (Yea, yea) she a babysitter (Baby, baby)
This a drawin' (It's Picasso), it's a foreign (Foreign, skrrrrt)
This look fun (This looks fun), that looks borin' (That looks dumb)
Girl, stop textin' me so much, you 'nnoying (Bitch, stop texting me)
This bloody LaFerrari, cost a fortune (Skrrt skrrrrrt)
Don't mean flex (Flex), I got racks (I got racks)
Got a coolin' system, witha Tec (Tec, Tec, Tec)
If your bitch spend the night, issa sex (Slime)
If your watch ain't cost a hundred, it ain't shit (It ain't shit, slime)
Gotta duffle bag (Duffle), and its Goyard (Goyard)
Playin 2k (Hoop), y'all are try hards (Try hard, try hard)
My bag VVS (VVS), and it's swimmin' (Swimmin')
I'm a gang banger (Gang), I'm lieutenant
Gotta 40 (Forty, shorty), witha 30 (Thirty, thirty)
And a Drum (Issa dessy), y'all not ready (Y'all ain't ready)
That's on god (Bitch on god), bitch I'm petty (The most)
Witha ton of these (Issa ton), Six God heavy (Six God heavy, aye)
Big Gucci Bag filled with racks, yeah
You be sending shots, we send em' back, yeah
Trey he keep a .9mm
We gon' pull up, you gon' hide
Lil bitch, I be in the Cut
I'm rolling gas, I lost my mind
Big Gucci Bag filled with racks, yeah
You be sending shots, we send em' back, yeah
Trey he keep a .9mm
We gon' pull up, you gon' hide
Lil bitch, I be in the Cut
I'm rolling gas, I lost my mind
Credits
Writer(s): Robert Lewis
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com
Link
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