Big Bumpin'
That bitch be so fine
She hotter than my glock when it pop she a dime
She carry my iron, and she'll use it if you try
To run up on us yeah you'll get hit with the nine
Racks, piling up the stacks
When you see me heat up, like you hittin jumpin jacks
Heard you stay lackin, might get hit in the back
Like your ass is Ricky, better watch out for that
Yeah pop a bean, and take another shot a henny
Yeah smoke some green, and grab another double cup there's plenty
She come with me, I get her high then go to Denny's
And you already know bout the racks, bitch there's many
So high, I'm walkin side to side
Decide to drive, while I'm buzzin like a bee hive
Swervin lanes, bumpin shits live
Till a siren caught my attention and went in overdrive
Swervin lanes, big bumpin
Ten racks on the dash, and it really ain't nothin
High as can be, still gettin that bread
And we steady doin this shit, till we all dead
Swervin lanes, big bumpin
Swervin lanes, big bumpin
Swervin lanes, big bumpin
Ten racks on the dash, and it really aint nothin
Aye roll me somethin
Got the kush and gelato so you know we smokin good
Man you actin like a hoe or something
Can't even make up your own mind, need to ask your girl if you should
Ashes all on my designer clothes
High all the time like three to five grams in a doobie or a blunt
Don't want that girl if she a hoe
She'll get you robbed or put in jail, so that way she can stunt
Got the Rick and Prada, with the raf and fendi drip
Hypebeast mixed with high fashion on another level shit
He ride on the wave instead of making one he like a tick
Keep on this music shit I'm heading to the top of it
Swervin lanes, big bumpin
Ten racks on the dash, and it really ain't nothin
High as can be, still gettin that bread
And we steady doin this shit, till we all dead
She hotter than my glock when it pop she a dime
She carry my iron, and she'll use it if you try
To run up on us yeah you'll get hit with the nine
Racks, piling up the stacks
When you see me heat up, like you hittin jumpin jacks
Heard you stay lackin, might get hit in the back
Like your ass is Ricky, better watch out for that
Yeah pop a bean, and take another shot a henny
Yeah smoke some green, and grab another double cup there's plenty
She come with me, I get her high then go to Denny's
And you already know bout the racks, bitch there's many
So high, I'm walkin side to side
Decide to drive, while I'm buzzin like a bee hive
Swervin lanes, bumpin shits live
Till a siren caught my attention and went in overdrive
Swervin lanes, big bumpin
Ten racks on the dash, and it really ain't nothin
High as can be, still gettin that bread
And we steady doin this shit, till we all dead
Swervin lanes, big bumpin
Swervin lanes, big bumpin
Swervin lanes, big bumpin
Ten racks on the dash, and it really aint nothin
Aye roll me somethin
Got the kush and gelato so you know we smokin good
Man you actin like a hoe or something
Can't even make up your own mind, need to ask your girl if you should
Ashes all on my designer clothes
High all the time like three to five grams in a doobie or a blunt
Don't want that girl if she a hoe
She'll get you robbed or put in jail, so that way she can stunt
Got the Rick and Prada, with the raf and fendi drip
Hypebeast mixed with high fashion on another level shit
He ride on the wave instead of making one he like a tick
Keep on this music shit I'm heading to the top of it
Swervin lanes, big bumpin
Ten racks on the dash, and it really ain't nothin
High as can be, still gettin that bread
And we steady doin this shit, till we all dead
Credits
Writer(s): Sydney Colaw
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com
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