Walkin'

Look at all the paper I stack bitch
Look at all the money and racks bitch
Look at all the m's in my bag bitch
Look at all them grams in them packs bitch
Ay, bust it down, break it down, poke it out, bitch
Ridin' in a Tahoe and you know we totin' sticks
Its just me and Louie C pullin' up wit a pack, wit a mac
Smokin' blunts, and we lookin' kinda hit
Walkin' wit a glock in my hand
If it's a group, then we pullin' up wit mops in our hands
So much blood on the ground call the custodian
Timid bitch but she like me so just fuck on me then
Ay, walkin' wit a glock in my palm
When I'm shootin' I'm aimin' at yo head bitch fuck yo arms
Yea $ilverio on the track never fucked wit no opps
Crackers starin' at us wit they phones out, to call the cops
Ay, touchin' on the clouds thinkin' everything is funny
No I've never been a snitch, no I've never been a dummy
Yo bitch got a stank attitude but in reality she lovely
Purple strain wrapped in paper and the bud is lookin fluffy
Ay, bust it down, break it down, poke it out, bitch
Ridin' in a Tahoe and you know we totin' sticks
Its just me and Louie C pullin' up wit a pack, wit a mac
Smokin' blunts, and we lookin' kinda hit
Walkin' wit a glock in my hand
If it's a group, then we pullin' up wit mops in our hands
So much blood on the ground call the custodian
Timid bitch but she like me so just fuck on me then
(Ay, bitch just fuck on me then)
(Or imma fuck on yo friend, ay)
(Or imma fuck on yo twin, ay)
(And imma post it on the gram, bitch)



Credits
Writer(s): Christian Portillo
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com

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