Havoc (ft. Slump6s)

Yeah
Yeah, look, ayy

Fashion, she love my fashion, don't need a caption
Got ratchets, they automatic, they causin' havoc
I'm stackin', I'm countin' cabbage, I had to cash in
You lackin', we pistol packin', we just might splat him
She ride on my dick, no, I ain't talkin' 'bout Rodeo, yeah
Plug hit my phone, I send that pack right through the mail, ayy
Tryna kill Amiri, I can't die, so you gon' fail
Got pulled over in a stolo, so you know I had to bail

He got caught up with that yola, free lil' Steve-o out the cell
Finna show the world the real me, get up out my shell
Bitch, I'm rollin' off a fat flat, you couldn't even tell
Hit that boy right with a blatt-blatt, send that boy to hell
I'm in Cali, I just bought a Motorola for my yola
Up in the telly, and this ho, she think she know us, she don't know us
Check my balance, I could take a fuckin' Ford to Bora Bora
I rock ALYX and that boy, he rock Supreme, I don't endorse it
Know they taxin' for this new lil' Tom Ford, you can't afford it
Automatic in the V, we push a button then we floor it
I was smashin' on this slut, I told that ho, "You can't record it"
I ain't cappin' on the plug, I made the trap jump like Jordan

Fashion, she love my fashion, don't need a caption
Got ratchets, they automatic, they causin' havoc
I'm stackin', I'm countin' cabbage, I had to cash in
You lackin', we pistol packin', we just might splat him
She ride on my dick, no, I ain't talkin' 'bout Rodeo, yeah
Plug hit my phone, I send that pack right through the mail, ayy
Tryna kill Amiri, I can't die, so you gon' fail
Got pulled over in a stolo, so you know I had to bail

I'm in L.A, Coolin in a highrise and I'm gettin' slow like a snail
Ready to cook a nigga like it's Five Guys,
If that nigga callin' me Namil
Chopper bullet, it's a Five-Nine, fight?
Nah, I'ma bring 'em hell
And every shirt that I got a medium, but I'm up on XXL
I told em tell me somethin' that I don't know,
Gettin' money, nigga, you could tell
I'm in the trap coolin' with a .44, I get caught, I'ma go to jail
Tell me you hate me, that's a low blow,
But you really think that I'd care
Thinkin' you faze me, nigga, oh no, I can't name a nigga I fear
These niggas tweakin' together like BKTHERULA
I feel like Yeat, mix the X with the boot up
Wifin' that ho, you and her really boo'd up
I tried to listen to you and I threw up
No BO3, but I slide with the Kuda
I walk in the party, saw you, I'm like, "Who them?"
Im not fightin' no more, nigga, I'm finna shoot 'em
Nigga talk on a stream, but I don't even view him

Bad shit, she love my fashion, don't need a caption
Got ratchets, they automatic, they causin' havoc
I'm stackin', I'm countin' cabbage, I had to cash it
You lackin', we pistol packin', we just might splat him
She ride on my dick, no, I ain't talkin' 'bout Rodeo, yeah
Plug hit my phone, I send that pack right through the mail, ayy
Tryna kill Amiri, I can't die, so you gon' fail
Got pulled over in the Stolo, so you know I had to bail

He got caught up with that yola, free lil' Steve-o out the cell
Finna show the world the real me, get up out my shell
Bitch, I'm rollin' off a fat flat, you couldn't even tell
Hit that boy right with a blatt-blatt, send that boy to hell



Credits
Writer(s): Namil Bridges, Elijah Policard, Semaj Maajins
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com

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