Saturday Night Crunch

Ace Boogie wit the work, I ain't lucky
Black Lives Matter move white like a honky
Threw the buffs on I ain't surprised she wanna hump me
Got a new batch in and err zip gon be chunky

Yo money too short that's why she ain't shakin monkey
They be talkin spicy fuck it I be talkin crunchy
Put a opp in a cone so you know I had to stuff it
Man they found out I'm really up some shit na they love me

I'm really up some shit but I ain't get it playin craps
He prolly still woulda been cool if he ain't rat
I prolly still woulda copped a chain if I ain't rap
Some niggas really need to die cuz they ain't live wat they rap

When I get to heaven imma still serve a pack
Put that 20 ball up you ain't eatin thats a snack
Took a L I ain't cry I wonn trippin, got it back
My nigga Gary lost his life, he can't never get it back

Ion even wanna make a song if it ain't facts
I'm turning down feature money if that song wack
I'm turnin down head if the bitch be smokin blacks
Ain't know her name call her Ricky how I'm bussin on her back

One thing I really hate is weak head
And all of her kids still be peein in the bed
And she be hittin licks just cuz she don't wanna beg
And another thing I hate big stomach, lil legs

They see me doing it big they ain't have faith in me
That fall bag in like we got it rakin leaves
Niggas takin shots, man they better take a seat
You can be a game head but you bet not play wit me

Half a cutie 3.5 wateva it's all a eighthy
I knew the bitch was slow but I ain't know that she was crazy
Asked me what's the chances of her really havin my baby
I told the bitch hmm never so it's slim just like Shady

Better take a timeout ain't gettin no time in
Oh she freaky freaky heard she got like 5 kids
She want some QT, She ain't a fan how I live
Don't complain how I live money long just like Nia

Pandemic prices that mean errthang double
Ain't shit sweet, pole on me, we a couple
Down on yo knuckles how you tryna knock my hustle
They like oh you in yo bag I'm like naw I'm in my duffle

All she drink is wine pussy taste like Moscato
Ain't turnin up yo grind but turnin up them liquor bottles
He never was a factor man I been forgot em
Postin money all the time, he can't believe that he got it

Unemployment stopped so yo money slowin up
Get em whacked for the signs that he throwin up
I might be a lil petty need to do some growin up
Say his funeral tomorrow oh I'm still showin up



Credits
Writer(s): Dominique Maybanks
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com

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