Jack and Jill

Wooh
Wooh
Wooh
Wooh
Got that mud in my cup I just poured up a three
Know I'm riding with you if you riding with me
Using full auto tune got me sounding like Yeat
And they know I got that Glock in my jeans
Bitches pull up and they get on a tee
You can't fuck with my bitches they outta yo league
They know I love to sip got that lean in my pee
He walk in with twelve but he leaving with three
And you know that all of my shooters on go
You fuckin with me, you fuck with my team
Freddy Krueger with Rugers pop out in yo dreams
He want smoked like a hookah pull out red beam
She wanna come back to the crib, so I told her come back to the crib
Stick in my pants but that shit way too big
So you know that it might make me walk with a limp
I can't fuck with you pussy boys I know that y'all just be simp
I got my shooter inside of the VIP
You wanna fuck on me bitch I'm a pimp
VVS diamonds behind of my lip
And lil shawty too drunk I think she need a Lyft
I got Louis my shirt and then Fendi the belt
She said it was real, I said I can tell
Fuck you bitch don't care how you feel
Jack and Jill roll down a hill
I'm off a pill, high as hell
I don't care, how you feel
I don't care, how you feel
Stop and stare, hold me still
Blonde hair bitch that's a holy grail
.456 and it's loaded yeah,
Got too many bitches so they told me chill
Baby pull up it get real
Twin Glocks like Phil and Lil'
She said I'm sick, I'm ill
But I already knew that yeah
Way too turnt up in here
You too concerned in here
T-Too turnt up in here
You too concerned in here
I know that I been gone but I'm back on the trail
And my life is a train got it back on the rails
And I just made a play send the pack through the mail
Tryna find where I stay so I'm tracking him down
Car been too fast, do the dash in that
When you play your songs
Imma laugh at that
Shawty ass so fat put it in my lap
Sippin' on yo rent know I love my Ac'
Cant sip to much it's gon' make me yack
Spent bout 9 racks on the Fendi bag
Ballin out on em all that's a Fendi fact
Smoking on straight za out the Benny Bag
I could fuck your girl put her on her back
Bring her back to your crib if you want her back
If I flirt with her then she gone flirt back
Put the pussy in a hearse imma kill that cat
If you don't come first then you will come last
Fuck a bad bitch praying that I don't come fast
All these rappers fallin out know they ain't gone last
I been making shit shake like a Napalm blast
Tryna give me fame you can take it all back
I got a midnight taste I been rocking all black
I treat the game like a floor way I mop that
On the way to the top and I got em all mad
Uh huh
Yeah
Yeah
Oh yeah



Credits
Writer(s): Nate Howell, Steven Carte
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com

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