VICE

(Tino Szn)
Huh

Snap on this bitch off the dome, off the head (woo)
You was on perks, I was gone off the red (ah-ah)
Niggas tryna copy, wanna bite what I'm sayin' (ah-ah)
Countin' hella racks see me gettin' to the bread (ooh)

I done hit 200K for my total, I'm lit, so I can't really work with no local
Then I bossed up on my haters, the same ones that told me I needed to work on my vocals
Please do not talk to me, bitch I'm not social
I really might takeover, I'm thinking global
Hold up
Hold up, catch a point like focal
Hold up, Brodie got the pack like postal

Bitches outta state wanna freak me (yuh)
'Cause Tino on a motherfuckin' three-peat (facts)
Gettin' cheesе, like my name, CiCi (yuh)
Bitch, I'm in a space coupе, used to swerve the PT (skkrt-skkrt)
Brand new Richard Mille on my wrist, can't see me
I done put some Fendi on a bitch, that Riri
Hold up
Sippin' that wock I be gone
I did this shit on my own

I can't feel my face
Never ever let a bitch in my place
And my money old, I call it Myspace
So you niggas need to give me my space
Bossed up on a bitch, holding me back, now I'm in a CLA
They said I be workin' too much
Gotta get the chips like Frito Lay

Snap on this bitch off the dome, off the head (woo)
You was on perks, I was gone off the red (ah-ah)
Niggas tryna copy, wanna bite what I'm sayin' (ah-ah)
Countin' hella racks see me gettin' to the bread (ooh)

He drive in that whip, don't get caught like a Kennedy (huh)
And I know a nigga with a couple of felonies (yuh)
Niggas dick ridin' like they into pregnancy (uh, uh, uh)
Ballin' so hard I'm off the 2K legacy (uh, uh, uh)
Right next to Jordan, shootin' with the .23
Tellin' that bitch to bend over
With the white Forgis and big body Rovers (yeah!)
You takin' my bitch, well, she a leftover (aye!)

Weird ass niggas fuckin' bitches not sober (haha)
I like my bitches forty or older (yeah)
Bitch stop playin' it's not game over (uh-huh)
Dick so long, tell that bitch, "Get lower"
Blunt so big, look like a flamethrower (nah)
My hand on her neck look like a choker
Pull up with a chopper, cut 'em off like a mower (ah, ah, ah)
You said that's your bitch, well I know her

I can't feel my face
Never ever let a bitch in my place
And my money old, I call it Myspace
So you niggas need to give me my space
Bossed up on a bitch, holding me back now I'm in a CLA
They said I be workin' too much
Gotta get the chips like Frito Lay

Snap on this bitch off the dome, off the head (woo)
You was on perks, I was gone off the red (ah-ah)
Niggas tryna copy, wanna bite what I'm sayin' (ah-ah)
Countin' hella racks see me gettin' to the bread (ooh)



Credits
Writer(s): Edy Edouard, Lafayette Valentino Montgomery, Donovan Wayne Eaton, Patrick Doherty
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com

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