Ghost

Wooh
Wooh
Yeah, Packrunner shit, bitch
Yeah, yeah yeah
Jugg, jugg, jugg

They on go
Whole team jugg, they on go
Big moves, baby I'mma glow
No phone calls, I'm going ghost
I'm going ghost, I'm going ghost
No phone calls, I'm going ghost
I'm going ghost, I'm going ghost
No phone calls, I'm going ghost

Spikes so god damn bloody
Can't tell what you sippin', it's not muddy
She in love, I think this bitch wanna cuff
But she lucky if she even gets to touch me
Glock in my Nudie jeans, I'm walkin', double dicks
New drum mag, it look like a pair of tits
And I'm walking 'round, lookin' 'round with my stick
New Tec-9 and I got some rubber bands

No phone calls, I'm going ghost
I don't think they wanna see me glow
I'm going ghost, I'm going ghost
No phone calls, I'm going ghost
I'm going ghost, I'm going ghost
I don't think they wanna see me glow
I'm going ghost, I'm going ghost
No phone calls, I'm going ghost
Yeah!



Credits
Writer(s): Romello Robinson, Gavin Weiland
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com

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