Saucin' (Freestyle)
Uh, uh (Skrrt)
Saucing on the regular, huh
I got all this money, it's spectacular, huh
All these bitches blowin' up my cellular
But this red all on my chest, I feel like Lucifer
I'm finna hop, hop, hop, hop, hop in the whip
I feel like Stevie, I got the tints
I paid like twenty dollars for the fit
She paid like twenty dollars for her tits
This ain't a movie, homie, this a clip
I got a brand new .40 with the grip
I'm never silent when I send a blitz, I'm like- (Bang)
Boy, this ain't a game, I'm boutta smash your ho
When I'm in Atlanta, feel like QC, ho
I'ma take her to the metro
Only do it 'cause I said so
Lately, I've been tryna let go
But I love the smell of bread dough (Ha)
I be off the weed, off the shrooms, off the acid
When I'm off the juice, I be feelin' like a bandit
If I get a private jet, I don't know where I'm landing
I'ma shoot it off until this automatic jammin'
That's my slime, huh, Vega HUH
Epic- (Huh?), he don't even fuck with us
I just popped a Percocet
But that shit ain't working yet
Sleep on me, they overslept
All up in the cut, Gillette
Give her back shots 'cause I'm nasty
Flames on my shirt, that shit got me feeling Thrash-y
Think he from New York cause his fit be lookin' trashy
I might give you up, lil bitch, I'm not on Rick Astley
Bitch, I be grinning from ear to ear
Bitch, I'm not stopping, got lears on lears
Hang from my neck like a chandelier
I'm finna fuck up your whole career
Blew out my back like a cop
They boutta call this a bop
Zero miles on the drop
Need a Life Alert, you get popped
UFC flow, they wanna fight me
If I want your chain, I won't take that shit politely
Water on my neck, so cold, it's too icy
Get that shit in blood like my last name Shiesty
Saucing on the regular, huh
I got all this money, it's spectacular, huh
All these bitches blowin' up my cellular
But this red all on my chest, I feel like Lucifer
I'm finna hop, hop, hop, hop, hop in the whip
I feel like Stevie, I got the tints
I paid like twenty dollars for the fit
She paid like twenty dollars for her tits
This ain't a movie, homie, this a clip
I got a brand new .40 with the grip
I'm never silent when I send a blitz, I'm like- (Bang)
No
No
Saucing on the regular, huh
I got all this money, it's spectacular, huh
All these bitches blowin' up my cellular
But this red all on my chest, I feel like Lucifer
I'm finna hop, hop, hop, hop, hop in the whip
I feel like Stevie, I got the tints
I paid like twenty dollars for the fit
She paid like twenty dollars for her tits
This ain't a movie, homie, this a clip
I got a brand new .40 with the grip
I'm never silent when I send a blitz, I'm like- (Bang)
Boy, this ain't a game, I'm boutta smash your ho
When I'm in Atlanta, feel like QC, ho
I'ma take her to the metro
Only do it 'cause I said so
Lately, I've been tryna let go
But I love the smell of bread dough (Ha)
I be off the weed, off the shrooms, off the acid
When I'm off the juice, I be feelin' like a bandit
If I get a private jet, I don't know where I'm landing
I'ma shoot it off until this automatic jammin'
That's my slime, huh, Vega HUH
Epic- (Huh?), he don't even fuck with us
I just popped a Percocet
But that shit ain't working yet
Sleep on me, they overslept
All up in the cut, Gillette
Give her back shots 'cause I'm nasty
Flames on my shirt, that shit got me feeling Thrash-y
Think he from New York cause his fit be lookin' trashy
I might give you up, lil bitch, I'm not on Rick Astley
Bitch, I be grinning from ear to ear
Bitch, I'm not stopping, got lears on lears
Hang from my neck like a chandelier
I'm finna fuck up your whole career
Blew out my back like a cop
They boutta call this a bop
Zero miles on the drop
Need a Life Alert, you get popped
UFC flow, they wanna fight me
If I want your chain, I won't take that shit politely
Water on my neck, so cold, it's too icy
Get that shit in blood like my last name Shiesty
Saucing on the regular, huh
I got all this money, it's spectacular, huh
All these bitches blowin' up my cellular
But this red all on my chest, I feel like Lucifer
I'm finna hop, hop, hop, hop, hop in the whip
I feel like Stevie, I got the tints
I paid like twenty dollars for the fit
She paid like twenty dollars for her tits
This ain't a movie, homie, this a clip
I got a brand new .40 with the grip
I'm never silent when I send a blitz, I'm like- (Bang)
No
No
Credits
Writer(s): Wack Zack
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com
Link
© 2025 All rights reserved. Rockol.com S.r.l. Website image policy
Rockol
- Rockol only uses images and photos made available for promotional purposes (“for press use”) by record companies, artist managements and p.r. agencies.
- Said images are used to exert a right to report and a finality of the criticism, in a degraded mode compliant to copyright laws, and exclusively inclosed in our own informative content.
- Only non-exclusive images addressed to newspaper use and, in general, copyright-free are accepted.
- Live photos are published when licensed by photographers whose copyright is quoted.
- Rockol is available to pay the right holder a fair fee should a published image’s author be unknown at the time of publishing.
Feedback
Please immediately report the presence of images possibly not compliant with the above cases so as to quickly verify an improper use: where confirmed, we would immediately proceed to their removal.