Clique
Hoppin' in that Aston Martin
Lids low lighter flick and sparkin'
Sip slow on that soda poppin throwin' in that
Purple slurpin up until my heartbeat stoppin
I came equipped with the gang
Diamonds they dance on my chain
I cannot fuck with the federallies
you won't ever see me dropping names
Ball hard Lebron James
Give a fuck about the fame
Livin' expensive Imma get rich and then spend all that money again
Life, sucks
But I can't give no fucks
Hop in that whip and spin down the block uh
Pull up with the mop and the opp finna drop
Smoke hotbox the droptop
Love heartbroke and slipknot
Fuck with me on god you get shot
Free all the homies locked up in the box
I swear to god that we finna get rich
And the chain staying on when im fucking yo' bitch
You get slain with this glock if you fuck with my clique
Knock his brain out his top with an extended clip
Yeah that mag gon' be empty
Run his mouth like don't you tempt me
You want clout you want attention
On my hip the Smith and Wesson
Let it spit in your direction
Pullin' up on intersections
And his bitch all in my mentions
He want problems he want tension yeah
That's some fuck shit
You fucked with the wrong clique
In the wrong place at the wrong time
You get smoked just like a bong rip
You dumb bitch
We run shit
Like Usain
Got drum clips
Big gats
Gonna buss quick
Bussdown
Whole wrist
I wont ever switch uh
I'll be myself till im dead and im rich, yuh yuh yuh
Lids low lighter flick and sparkin'
Sip slow on that soda poppin throwin' in that
Purple slurpin up until my heartbeat stoppin
I came equipped with the gang
Diamonds they dance on my chain
I cannot fuck with the federallies
you won't ever see me dropping names
Ball hard Lebron James
Give a fuck about the fame
Livin' expensive Imma get rich and then spend all that money again
Life, sucks
But I can't give no fucks
Hop in that whip and spin down the block uh
Pull up with the mop and the opp finna drop
Smoke hotbox the droptop
Love heartbroke and slipknot
Fuck with me on god you get shot
Free all the homies locked up in the box
I swear to god that we finna get rich
And the chain staying on when im fucking yo' bitch
You get slain with this glock if you fuck with my clique
Knock his brain out his top with an extended clip
Yeah that mag gon' be empty
Run his mouth like don't you tempt me
You want clout you want attention
On my hip the Smith and Wesson
Let it spit in your direction
Pullin' up on intersections
And his bitch all in my mentions
He want problems he want tension yeah
That's some fuck shit
You fucked with the wrong clique
In the wrong place at the wrong time
You get smoked just like a bong rip
You dumb bitch
We run shit
Like Usain
Got drum clips
Big gats
Gonna buss quick
Bussdown
Whole wrist
I wont ever switch uh
I'll be myself till im dead and im rich, yuh yuh yuh
Credits
Writer(s): Keeley James Rae Grant
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com
Link
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