Mhm Mhm

C-D-O-T, man!
Honcho! (Noah in his bag, bitch)

Mhm, mhm, mhm
Mhm, mhm, mhm
Honcho gang, see, y'all already know what the fuck goin' on (mhm, mhm, mhm)
Man it's still a motherfuckin' takeover (mhm, mhm, mhm)
I'm in this big chain, danglin', you know what the fuck goin' on

Ayy, you know we roll up, we deep
You got a problem with one of us
You got a problem with all of us
Speakin' of problems, I got 'em wit bitches
They mad, I fuck 'em, and then never call 'em up
Speakin' of calling, it's finna be yours
Better respect me, or God finna call him up
We gon' let every shell rip through your pores
Autopsy say he got hit from the bottom up (damn!)

How I run to that money, I shoulda been sore (ahuh)
I hit a lot of hoes, you prolly know 'em
Better yet one of em probably is yours (huh)
Nah, I'm lying I knew she was yours
I was on IG, I hit that explore
I know why niggas don't like me
I been stuffing my dick in the hoes they tend to adore (huh)
If I ain't bout money, I tend to ignore
She can't suck dick, I Tinder ignore
Run in your crib, we finna explore
Whatever pop out we drop to the floor
Yup, smokin' exotic, zip and a pipe in my door
Call me Honcho the Plumber
Finna come lay that pipe on your whore

Mhm, mhm, mhm
Ay, man, look (mhm, mhm, mhm)
This shit just really gettin' started, man (mhm, mhm, mhm)
When I say it's still a motherfucking takeover (mhm, mhm, mhm)
It's still a motherfucking takeover
This shit finna be goin' on all day

Ayy, you know we roll up, we deep
You got a problem with one of us
You got a problem with all of us
Speakin' of problems, I got 'em wit bitches
They mad, I fuck 'em, and then never call 'em up
Speakin' of calling, it's finna be yours
Better respect me, or God finna call him up
We gon' let every shell rip through your pores
Autopsy say he got hit from the bottom up (damn!)

And I'm dripped from the bottom up
Yo' hoe try to get that lil' bottom up
4-4 Bulldog, don't make me walk him up
They prolly gon eat him up
You can put all your jewelry
Together to one of my pieces, it ain't enough
I might hit both of them bitches 'cause together
'Cause one-on-one with them just ain't enough
You say you get money, ain't got shit to show, it ain't adding up
Play with that money,
We'll find you like they unlockin'
An iPhone, they sliding up (skrrt!)
Yo' hoe let me get right behind her, she a freak
She askin' me, can I tie her up?
But to be honest, I'm tired of her
So as soon as that money hit me
She can know it's bye-bye to her

Mhm, mhm, mhm
Ay, man, I'm done talking, man (mhm, mhm, mhm)
I'ma let everything speak for itself (mhm, mhm, mhm)
I'ma let my work speak for itself (mhm, mhm, mhm)
I'ma let the ice speak for itself
See them bitches talkin' a lil right there

Ayy, you know we roll up, we deep
You got a problem with one of us
You got a problem with all of us
Speakin' of problems, I got 'em wit bitches
They mad, I fuck 'em, and then never call 'em up
Speakin' of calling, it's finna be yours
Better respect me, or God finna call him up
We gon' let every shell rip through your pores
Autopsy say he got hit from the bottom up (damn!)



Credits
Writer(s): Camaron Washington, Noah Gabriel Steed
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com

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