Whole Lotta
Uh-uh, uh-uh, uh
Uh-uh, uh-uh, uh
Uh-uh, uh-uh, uh
Uh-uh, uh-uh, uh
Whole lotta, whole lotta bands
Whole lotta, whole lotta racks
I gotta whole lotta wads
I got a whole lotta cash
I gotta whole lot of people that tryna be friends
They gon' stab me in the back
I gotta whole lot of shooters
They ready on go, I had to tell 'em relax
I gotta hunnid lil' bands, they right in the trap
Fuck it, I'm runnin' it back
I put that bitch in the back of the Caddy, yeah
She getting dirty and nasty
I know you broke and that really is tragic, yeah
Your little chain made of plastic
Talk on the 'gram, he act like he wildin', yeah
Toolie gon' aim at your noggin
I just wan' get to the bag, give fuck bout a college
You on the 'gram, you acting like you is the man
I need you to stop it
Whatever you think, you is not it
The drank, it got me hypnotic
I went and got me a grand, and ran up a bag
Go shopping at Follies
I gotta trust in the process
'Cause that's what I'm supposed to do
Heard you pulled up to my show
I didn't even notice you
Heard you was calling my phone
I didn't even know it was you
I bet you never would know
If I had to go to you
Baby, I been feeling low
New drop in, got pack for the low (what, what)
All the shit you did I wanna know (know, come on)
Why you leaving me for?
I wanna go (I wanna go, yeah)
Whole lotta, whole lotta bands
Whole lotta, whole lotta racks
I gotta whole lotta wads
I got a whole lotta cash
I gotta whole lot of people that tryna be friends
They gon' stab me in the back
I gotta whole lot of shooters
They ready on go, I had to tell 'em relax
I gotta hunnid lil' bands, they right in the trap
Fuck it, I'm runnin' it back
I put that bitch in the back of the Caddy, yeah
She getting dirty and nasty
I know you broke and that really is tragic, yeah
Your little chain made of plastic
Talk on the 'gram, he act like he wildin', yeah
Toolie gon' aim at your noggin
(Yeah, yeah, yeah)
(Yeah, yeah, yeah)
(Yeah, yeah, yeah)
Uh-uh, uh-uh, uh
Uh-uh, uh-uh, uh
Uh-uh, uh-uh, uh
Whole lotta, whole lotta bands
Whole lotta, whole lotta racks
I gotta whole lotta wads
I got a whole lotta cash
I gotta whole lot of people that tryna be friends
They gon' stab me in the back
I gotta whole lot of shooters
They ready on go, I had to tell 'em relax
I gotta hunnid lil' bands, they right in the trap
Fuck it, I'm runnin' it back
I put that bitch in the back of the Caddy, yeah
She getting dirty and nasty
I know you broke and that really is tragic, yeah
Your little chain made of plastic
Talk on the 'gram, he act like he wildin', yeah
Toolie gon' aim at your noggin
I just wan' get to the bag, give fuck bout a college
You on the 'gram, you acting like you is the man
I need you to stop it
Whatever you think, you is not it
The drank, it got me hypnotic
I went and got me a grand, and ran up a bag
Go shopping at Follies
I gotta trust in the process
'Cause that's what I'm supposed to do
Heard you pulled up to my show
I didn't even notice you
Heard you was calling my phone
I didn't even know it was you
I bet you never would know
If I had to go to you
Baby, I been feeling low
New drop in, got pack for the low (what, what)
All the shit you did I wanna know (know, come on)
Why you leaving me for?
I wanna go (I wanna go, yeah)
Whole lotta, whole lotta bands
Whole lotta, whole lotta racks
I gotta whole lotta wads
I got a whole lotta cash
I gotta whole lot of people that tryna be friends
They gon' stab me in the back
I gotta whole lot of shooters
They ready on go, I had to tell 'em relax
I gotta hunnid lil' bands, they right in the trap
Fuck it, I'm runnin' it back
I put that bitch in the back of the Caddy, yeah
She getting dirty and nasty
I know you broke and that really is tragic, yeah
Your little chain made of plastic
Talk on the 'gram, he act like he wildin', yeah
Toolie gon' aim at your noggin
(Yeah, yeah, yeah)
(Yeah, yeah, yeah)
(Yeah, yeah, yeah)
Credits
Writer(s): Danny Snodgrass, Rio Leyva, Elijah Policard
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com
Link
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