Free Woo
(Flexin')
I'm a no-shoestring-wearin' nigga, just straps
Nine out of ten of these hoes holdin' back
How the fuck he did six years with four flat?
Course Hot Boy and Will hang together, they both rats
Pull up in the hood, high beams on the Wagen
My niggas call me Rollie, all my bitches call me Patek
Ho, quit sayin' you could've had me, how?
Shout out Lil I'm the one who blew him down
Rest in peace, drop shit for extra cheese
This here for Neff and Rece, say I remember bettin' fives
Hard times don't never last
Told y'all I quit stompin', I'm on my seventh slab
Somethin' 'bout that drug money make these bitches get off
Let me know if you can't see me, nigga, 'cause I'll take the tint off
We just left SoleStage, blew about a ten ball
Free my nigga Woo, or should I call him Mr. Fentanyl?
Yeah, Gotti want a show, but shit, I'm finna have a spin-off
Take a nigga ho, you never told me that you loved her
Fifty for a show, no back and forth, I'm sellin' drugs first
Hold me down, never know what tomorrow bring
Help me out, if I eat, we all eat
Ma, look at your baby
Still findin' thirties for the A-team, yeah
I might come through in a hard top, we draggin'
I still save all of my call logs, I'm damaged
From hustle kids to ball out, I still live in the doghouse
I'm known for goin' on Moss routes like throw it up
Hate on who? I'm goin' up
Ain't gotta flash, I show enough
Been in my bag, nigga, get in yours
Quarter million cash, ain't shit in yours
Married for now, I'll get divorced, ayy
This bitch been actin' like she love me
Came from nothin', doggy, we was thuggin'
How you gon' judge them?
Nigga ran off with my last and left me hurtin'
Askin' doggy would he rather be rappin' or sellin' thirties?
Youngest nigga, but the first one in traffic behind the murders
In that 'Cat, I'm probably swervin', state troopers make me nervous
Young dog still into murders, throw his shit back like a jersey
Put a Patek on a baddie, a Patek on a
I put a Patek on a baddie
Hold me down, never know what tomorrow bring
Help me out, if I eat, we all eat
Ma, look at your baby
Still findin' thirties for the A-team, yeah
I might come through in a hard top, we draggin'
I still save all of my call logs, I'm damaged
Free my nigga Woo
Free my nigga Woo
I'm a no-shoestring-wearin' nigga, just straps
Nine out of ten of these hoes holdin' back
How the fuck he did six years with four flat?
Course Hot Boy and Will hang together, they both rats
Pull up in the hood, high beams on the Wagen
My niggas call me Rollie, all my bitches call me Patek
Ho, quit sayin' you could've had me, how?
Shout out Lil I'm the one who blew him down
Rest in peace, drop shit for extra cheese
This here for Neff and Rece, say I remember bettin' fives
Hard times don't never last
Told y'all I quit stompin', I'm on my seventh slab
Somethin' 'bout that drug money make these bitches get off
Let me know if you can't see me, nigga, 'cause I'll take the tint off
We just left SoleStage, blew about a ten ball
Free my nigga Woo, or should I call him Mr. Fentanyl?
Yeah, Gotti want a show, but shit, I'm finna have a spin-off
Take a nigga ho, you never told me that you loved her
Fifty for a show, no back and forth, I'm sellin' drugs first
Hold me down, never know what tomorrow bring
Help me out, if I eat, we all eat
Ma, look at your baby
Still findin' thirties for the A-team, yeah
I might come through in a hard top, we draggin'
I still save all of my call logs, I'm damaged
From hustle kids to ball out, I still live in the doghouse
I'm known for goin' on Moss routes like throw it up
Hate on who? I'm goin' up
Ain't gotta flash, I show enough
Been in my bag, nigga, get in yours
Quarter million cash, ain't shit in yours
Married for now, I'll get divorced, ayy
This bitch been actin' like she love me
Came from nothin', doggy, we was thuggin'
How you gon' judge them?
Nigga ran off with my last and left me hurtin'
Askin' doggy would he rather be rappin' or sellin' thirties?
Youngest nigga, but the first one in traffic behind the murders
In that 'Cat, I'm probably swervin', state troopers make me nervous
Young dog still into murders, throw his shit back like a jersey
Put a Patek on a baddie, a Patek on a
I put a Patek on a baddie
Hold me down, never know what tomorrow bring
Help me out, if I eat, we all eat
Ma, look at your baby
Still findin' thirties for the A-team, yeah
I might come through in a hard top, we draggin'
I still save all of my call logs, I'm damaged
Free my nigga Woo
Free my nigga Woo
Credits
Writer(s): Dion Hayes, Aaron Butler, Oscar Braojos Garcia
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com
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