Carrot Cake
Young nigga, Young nigga, I did it, I did it
I made it out the box on my own intuition
Don't pop out at a cookout better bring to the kitchen
Put metal in the water but we ain't washing dishes
Put yo sleeves up boy we ain't talking bout our feelings
Got my leaves in a pile, money stacking to the ceiling
Keep the beats in my file, ain't part of our division
On her knees in the night gave her ass a new religion
Fuck
Sippin on dirty, dirty
Clip hold 30, 30
Bitch got back curvy, curvy
Chop with a grip sturdy
Yes I'm really sipping on you niggas like ooh
And my diamonds purty got you nigga's like ooh
Beat sick like scurvy you might really need some soup
And I'm all about the business got ties no suit
Bitch I got the 4 cocked
Imma ship it to your house like a post office
You pussies baristas how you reaching for a straws, just stop it
I'm going gold tooth shopping, huh
Y'all be making me nauseous
I be in your subconscious giving you options
Get the fuck out, acknowledge our problems
These yuppies been calling me flawless
But bitch I got suicidal logic
Wilson been fresh out of hospice, top it
You should really peep your losses
Brrr, we might leave him exhausted
Out of breath, we gone be breaking his promise
Fuck the rich and fuck the bosses
Give a shit and eat the profit
Slit my wrist and feel some solace bitch
Go and get me a carrot cake
Yeah, aye fuck
Yeah, I don't fuck around with the street fame
Runnin to the bag no relay, I
Can't fit it all in my briefcase
Take his ass out like a key frame, lights out
If it's a gun fight I whip the knife out
Pull up to my crib I'm in a nightgown
Imma have to make young nigga PIPE DOWN
Not right now, I'm on lockdown
I don't wanna fuck around so put the glock down
I don't wanna follow rules, Imma drop out
If I'm getting locked up they do the walkout
Do the walkout
Do the walkout, do the walkout
Do the walkout, do the walkout
Do the walkout, do the walkout
Do the walkout, do the walkout
I made it out the box on my own intuition
Don't pop out at a cookout better bring to the kitchen
Put metal in the water but we ain't washing dishes
Put yo sleeves up boy we ain't talking bout our feelings
Got my leaves in a pile, money stacking to the ceiling
Keep the beats in my file, ain't part of our division
On her knees in the night gave her ass a new religion
Fuck
Sippin on dirty, dirty
Clip hold 30, 30
Bitch got back curvy, curvy
Chop with a grip sturdy
Yes I'm really sipping on you niggas like ooh
And my diamonds purty got you nigga's like ooh
Beat sick like scurvy you might really need some soup
And I'm all about the business got ties no suit
Bitch I got the 4 cocked
Imma ship it to your house like a post office
You pussies baristas how you reaching for a straws, just stop it
I'm going gold tooth shopping, huh
Y'all be making me nauseous
I be in your subconscious giving you options
Get the fuck out, acknowledge our problems
These yuppies been calling me flawless
But bitch I got suicidal logic
Wilson been fresh out of hospice, top it
You should really peep your losses
Brrr, we might leave him exhausted
Out of breath, we gone be breaking his promise
Fuck the rich and fuck the bosses
Give a shit and eat the profit
Slit my wrist and feel some solace bitch
Go and get me a carrot cake
Yeah, aye fuck
Yeah, I don't fuck around with the street fame
Runnin to the bag no relay, I
Can't fit it all in my briefcase
Take his ass out like a key frame, lights out
If it's a gun fight I whip the knife out
Pull up to my crib I'm in a nightgown
Imma have to make young nigga PIPE DOWN
Not right now, I'm on lockdown
I don't wanna fuck around so put the glock down
I don't wanna follow rules, Imma drop out
If I'm getting locked up they do the walkout
Do the walkout
Do the walkout, do the walkout
Do the walkout, do the walkout
Do the walkout, do the walkout
Do the walkout, do the walkout
Credits
Writer(s): Wilson Hunter
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com
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