How

How, How
Yeah
How

I know some niggas come and get you for a check brah
I ain't a doctor but I know I need my check up
Life like a game of laser tag I stay vest up
She gone suck my dick and kiss her husband ain't that messed up (Yeah)
My big bro the real coochie man, I got dog food for the low I serve it in a can
How she loyal more miles than a grand caravan
I'm so royal she can never touch on me again
She call me bougie, She can call me what the fuck she want
And she my slave, Leash on her she do what I want
Take her for a walk, They like Eddie what the fuck you on
Fucking up that bitch weave, Yeah she gone need a comb
Back to that money talk shit, That's my favorite topic
Niggas still hating but they know that they could never stop it
I don't understand it, What's the point, What's the fucking reason
Me and all my niggas eating every season
That is just a waste of time, Waste time
Don't you try and minimize my grind, I'm gone always shine
I been out in Columbus, Getting to that bag
Niggas they ain't on nothing and it's so sad
Imma take a ride around the block just to see what's good
You gotta observe when you from the hood
Big cap, Big rat, You ain't from around here
Hot shit, Demon time nigga you ain't from down here
Heaven sent but I was sent to hell for turning up
Fumbled, I had dropped the ball I had to pick it up
They say Eddie greasy had to tell that nigga dead right
Pull up on that nigga with the Nina at the right light
Yeah, He'll never stop at one again
I'll kill his ass myself, I don't need no friends
Yeah, I just need that bag I just need that paper
I ain't got no opps, I ain't got no haters (How)

How (How)
How (How)
How (How)
(Yeahhh)

I ain't got no opps cuz they, Super smart
All these fiends come and shop with me like a super-mart
I can't keep enough fucking baggies in the crib
Three traps I can't let em know where I live

How
How
How



Credits
Writer(s): Edward Turner
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com

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