Lincoln

Yeah
Yeah
Yeah
Yeah
Yeah
Yeah
Yeah (BenjiCold, why you icy?) Let's go, let's go

Trackhawk, that bitch really speedin' (yeah)
Abraham, me and her linkin' (yeah)
I'm on the dr-, man, I'm geekin' (yeah)
We finna leave that boy leakin' (yeah)
Ca-came to the crib for the weekend (yeah)
B-, shut it up, why you speakin'? (Yeah)
Bad h-, yeah, she Puerto Rican
Uppin' his bro then I tell him we leavin'

I heard these n- been stealin' my sound
I got M-, I'm knockin' 'em down
She is a h-, man, that girl been around
You got no money, don't like how that sound
All of my brothers, they movin' a pound
Your h-, she weighin' like five-hundred pounds
'K in my hand hold like five-hundred rounds
Once you was lost and you've never been found

Number nine jeans with the Ricky, yeah
Bougie-ass ho, man, she picky, yeah
P- a- boy, you a kitty, yeah
W- finna f- up my kidney, yeah
L- finna f- up my liver
We c- that boy then leave him in a river, yeah
You talkin' down, I'm f- on your sister
I came up on my own, I ain't need no assistance

N- said that he put me on, it don't make no sense
What the h- is you talkin' 'bout, ya b-?
She finna come to the crib and she eatin' me up, man
I just got some top from ya b-
I cannot beef with a n- that's not in my bracket
I've been countin' money, ya dig?
That h- told me that I'm toxic
I don't like to talk, so lil' h-, it is what it is

I'm in her shell like a taco
Got paparazzi like wherever I go
They like, "You been goin' up," n-, I know
Black and white diamonds, they got vitiligo
She told me that I should pay for her lashes
We caught that boy, now we s- his ashes
Been growin' up, I was never a bad kid
Run up the racks, yeah, I run up the backends

Shoutout Santana, this chop' finna blast him
Came in a peak and I ain't even ask him
My niggas come in that shit like Alaska
Put him in the void, I'ma f- 'round and pack him
F- with my sh-, might as well run it back then
I'm pullin' up and I'm breakin' her back in
Ask for my lo, man, I'm like, "Who is askin'?"
In Hollywood and I ain't even actin', oh

I'm in her ear like an AirPod
Leave his top red like he put in some hair dye
That n- hatin', he still finna hear 'bout
Bring up a h- that I don't even care 'bout
We put the hit on the screen like an AirDrop
Y'all n- broke but my n-, yeah, they're not
I shoot the fire, you touch it, you're damn hot
I'm cookin' up and I'm not using a pot

Trackhawk, that b- really speedin' (yeah)
Abraham, me and her linkin' (yeah)
I'm on the dr-, man, I'm geekin' (yeah)
We finna leave that boy leakin' (yeah)
Ca-came to the crib for the weekend (yeah)
B-, shut it up, why you speakin'? (Yeah)
Bad h-, yeah, she Puerto Rican
Uppin' his bro then I tell him we leavin' (yeah)



Credits
Writer(s): Namil Bridges, James Addison Iii
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com

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