Off My Ass (feat. FuckTwelve & Phvntom's Heart)

I got off my ass, now I need me a M
I won't fold and this money won't bend
Fuck these niggas, yeah I don't need no friends
Trapping trapping, yeah I'm making some ends
Think about it, nigga I'm thinking big
I smoke woods and I keep me a stick
Niggas hating, please get off of my dick
Fast money, got it coming in quick

Water Fiji when you look at the wrist
They be capping, I be talking my shit
He a pussy so I'm fucking his bitch
Credit cards shawty know that I'm lit
Money, power gonna come with respect
I want a foreign and a bust down baguette
Before I check, I'll be chasing the checks
She give me neck, cause she know that I'm next
I got Tecs, I ain't talking through text
Head shots if that boy got a vest
Snitch niggas always tend to to confess
Brodie told me this shit checkers not chess
He said he flexing, I ain't really impressed
I fuck it up, yeah I flex and finesse
Bitches love me, but I only want sex
Ima hit it then I'm onto the next

My niggas trappers but they all tryna change
Drug money bringing pleasure and pain
We focused on tryna pull up in a Range
With matching seats, all the movements the same
Money moves, all I got on my brain
Bowel movements on these niggas, my fetish
Since I came out the pussy, I been tryna get it
Your bank balance, same digits as your credit, 600
I'm praying for you boy, don't you forget it
You stay in the house but you mad you ain't rich
Sound like the mindset of a bitch
Glass eye, I'm seeing through your tint
Fresh off the press, Phvntom mint
New money, on me need a hint
Gold wrist, boy you better squint
Rolling clean you won't see no lint
Free Queseyot from that stint
Free Queseyot from that stint
Still making fire like I'm flint
Run the check up on my phone I got sprint

My chopper got kick, I call it Shawn Michaels
I'll lie to your honor with hands on the Bible
Your niggas shoot pistols, my niggas shoot rifles
Your niggas is bitches, my niggas is idols
Niggas ratting, I be pleading the fifth
Fast life, I be taking the risks
I'm around, can't get caught in the mix
I don't drink, dirty Sprite when I sip
I ain't scheming for no reason
Demons, in my head they be teasing
Treason, fuck life, I might need a deacon
Robbed my plug, we ain't even steven
I'm cracking codes like DaVinci
Niggas hating on me cause I'm litty
What's my problem, man I got too many
Compensate my pain with all this henny
Phone ring, sorry Mom I'm busy
Truth be told had work up on the skizzy
Pockets fat shoutout that nigga Skinny
I ain't shy, lil bitch I keep a glizzy
I put him on a tee because I'm grizzly
Niggas mad at me because I'm busy
I feel like a king up in my city

I got off my ass, now I need me a M
I won't fold and this money won't bend
Fuck these niggas, yeah I don't need no friends
Trapping trapping, yeah I'm making some ends
Think about it, nigga I'm thinking big
I smoke woods and I keep me a stick
Niggas hating, please get off of my dick
Fast money got it coming in quick



Credits
Writer(s): Daniel John Murphy
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com

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