TROLLZ (Alternate Edition)

Watch, mhm
Glock, mhm
Cocked, mhm
Got it, mhm
You need that? I got it
That's cash in my pockets
That's cash one hunnids
You need that? I got it
Need it, I got it, cash, pockets
Bands on me, sticks on me
You need that? I got it
This cash, my pockets
That's cash one hunnids
You need that?

Yeah, she like how I throw them racks
Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah
Keep on throwin' that cash
Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah
Keep on throwin' that ass
Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah
Benz truck in the back
Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah

I know you don't like me, you wanna fight me
You don't want no problems at your party, don't invite me
I don't worry 'bout you nigga, please stop talking 'bout me
Always talking 'bout me 'cause you looking for the clouty
6ix-nina, the 9ine-nina
Riding in the two-seater with two ninas
Baby got that Aquafina, it's cocaina
Smoking on that OG reefer, no tmz, a
Forgiatos on a Benz truck, make her friends fuck
Told her she could get Chanel if she let my friends fuck
Slide, shining in the Rolls Royce, it got red guts
Wait, hold up, nah, still don't give a fuck
Vroom, vroom, G5
Vroom, vroom, we high
You the type of nigga that I never wanna be like
You the type of bitch that will never get a reply
Hi, hater, bye, hater, vroom

And, she like how I throw them racks
Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah
Keep on throwin' that cash
Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah
Keep on throwin' that ass
Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah
Benz truck in the back
Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah

Booming at your man, now we booming at his matas
Split his fucking wigs, burst it open like pinata
He 'tryna out it in mi culo, real fat gato
When he eat it, I tell him to squeeze like a taco
All my niggas out of town, moving all that blanco
I ain't letting you on you bitches, say uncle
Still the baddest bitch, quarantining in mi casa
Taking all that shit
But you bitch ain't saying caca
Uh a flock of birds, waka
All my itchs pretty, juicy booty, pretty knockers
Yeah, eat it, cookie monster
He a slave to this pussy, call me master
Real wet, I said slurp it up like it's pasta
They get nervous, when it's Nicki on the roster
Somebdy usher this nigga into a clinic
My flows still sick, am not talking a pandemic
I write my own lyrics, a lot of these bitches gimmicks
They study Nicki style now all of them want to mimic
Talking about snitches, when its snitches in your camp
Never stand alone you always itching for a stamp
Me, I'm still money, wrist lights up like a lamp
They gon' have to send the best fighter for the champ

And she like how I throw them racks
Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah
Keep on throwin' that cash
Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah
Keep on throwin' that ass
Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah
Benz truck in the back
Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah

Watch, mhm
Glock, mhm
Cocked, mhm
Got it, mhm

If you like, I throw it fast, real fast, fast, fast
He singin' my old song, yellin', ass, ass, ass
They be speeding, trying to be me, then they crash, crash, crash
Still a hundred like the number on my dash, dash, dash



Credits
Writer(s): Onika Tanya Maraj, Jeremiah James Raisen, Daniel Hernandez, Andrew Green, Jahnei Clarke, Aaron Clarke
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com

Link