Skywalker

.44 And it shoot at you
Spill a lil' blood like juice
You not my bro
Hell nah, you cannot sip my juice
Hella SRTs, can't choose
Motherfuckers "Blah blah blah," fuck you
Her pussy bald as shit, Caillou
I put a big ole bag on you
My bitch on coco, go coo coo
Big ole bands, and they blue
With yo' bitch, rendezvous
Oh yeah, you cap, bless you

Bless you
I don't want you hoe, I want less you
I don't gotta impress you

Make a lil' French bitch dance for the (N)ine
Yo' lil' homie gon' dance with the fye
I'm so damn high, I dance with the stars
I was off a pill counting in class
Rari swerving donuts in the parking lot
You say I do not got that cash
Okay, you cap a lot
I got a baby Birkin bag
My bitch she flex a lot
20 Hoes up in the 'telly
They have sex a lot
Don't care if my bitch a lil' plastic
We on the couch, I'm casting
Sticks in the back like Bungie
I'm smoking on gas, I'm farting
Can't afford my fit, it's costly
Yo' chain so old, it's rusty
I can't fuck my locals, they crusty
That bitch a lil' too dusty

Fendi bag at the Boulevard
My legs so short, but my cash so long
Oxy in my wine, I sip blood
Just spent like five racks, not at the mall

I'm enlightened, I'ma sky walk
I took a white bitch to Starbucks
I like my cocktail on rocks
N-N-N-Number (N)ine jeans hold my racks
Walk around with the fye tucked
Walk around with a Thai slut
H-H-H-Hoe on me, she gassed up
ATM, I ain't got cash out



Credits
Writer(s): Flavio Juarez
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com

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