On the Low
(808 Mafia)
Yeah, uh, runnin' up them racks 'til I get old
I count up blue cheese, I spent this shit before it mold
Got your ho on her knees, I'm tryna hit the back of her throat
But she ain't nothin' to me, I'm 'bout to pass her to my bro
I'm a pimp and I walk with a limp, no, I ain't trippin' 'bout no ho
And I know that these niggas mad 'cause I got they hoes on go
I was hittin' his bitch from the back, he was pillow talkin' on the low
Yeah, he can go out bad 'bout these hoes
Bitch can't get nothin' from me, not even somethin' from the store
Yeah, bitch, I'm cold
Iced tea, big tit bitch with me, ain't no Nicole
Got a big booty bitch, better bitch, bald head, yeah, Amber Rose
Poured a six of the Tris, we ain't got no red, yeah, fuck a four
Hit a lick if we ain't got no bread, yeah, kick a door
If it ain't 'bout a dollar, if it ain't 'bout money, yeah, don't hit my phone
Uh, runnin' up them racks 'til I get old
I count up blue cheese, I spent this shit before it mold
Got your ho on her knees, I'm tryna hit the back of her throat
But she ain't nothin' to me, I'm 'bout to pass her to my bro
I'm a pimp and I walk with a limp, no, I ain't trippin' 'bout no ho
And I know that these niggas mad 'cause I got they hoes on go
I was hittin' his bitch from the back, he was pillow talkin' on the low
(Yeah, he was pillow talkin' on the low)
Yeah, uh, runnin' up them racks 'til I get old
I count up blue cheese, I spent this shit before it mold
Got your ho on her knees, I'm tryna hit the back of her throat
But she ain't nothin' to me, I'm 'bout to pass her to my bro
I'm a pimp and I walk with a limp, no, I ain't trippin' 'bout no ho
And I know that these niggas mad 'cause I got they hoes on go
I was hittin' his bitch from the back, he was pillow talkin' on the low
Yeah, he can go out bad 'bout these hoes
Bitch can't get nothin' from me, not even somethin' from the store
Yeah, bitch, I'm cold
Iced tea, big tit bitch with me, ain't no Nicole
Got a big booty bitch, better bitch, bald head, yeah, Amber Rose
Poured a six of the Tris, we ain't got no red, yeah, fuck a four
Hit a lick if we ain't got no bread, yeah, kick a door
If it ain't 'bout a dollar, if it ain't 'bout money, yeah, don't hit my phone
Uh, runnin' up them racks 'til I get old
I count up blue cheese, I spent this shit before it mold
Got your ho on her knees, I'm tryna hit the back of her throat
But she ain't nothin' to me, I'm 'bout to pass her to my bro
I'm a pimp and I walk with a limp, no, I ain't trippin' 'bout no ho
And I know that these niggas mad 'cause I got they hoes on go
I was hittin' his bitch from the back, he was pillow talkin' on the low
(Yeah, he was pillow talkin' on the low)
Credits
Writer(s): Anton Martin Mendo, Tobias Dekker, Jalan Anthony Lowe, Kenyatta Lee Frazier Jr.
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com
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