FedEx (Interlude)

Toss up, boy don't reach for my cup
I got sugar on the shelf
Buy an ounce for myself
Holster
Say she want my kosher
IPhone in the holster
Lean on a coaster
Flex a nigga up we drop tabs for a toast
I'mma remind niggas why my name mean the most
Come for my Versace mail posted at yo do
I might put it on my chain, M.U.N.D.O
Who you talking to, nigga who you talking to
Big ass drum
When I skrrt off in a Mazi does it hurt you
I know every single junkie gonna clean out my recents
All it take is one snitch, please don't give me a reason
We show up with V.V.S. and she say he kinda decent
And she had five other buddys thought that that was convenient
Still trapped with my OG, plastic everywhere
So drunk started falling while I was going up the stairs
Link with shorty at the club, but I said I'll meet her there
I was clapping from the back till I pulled that fake hair
I was clapping from the back til I
Shorty had fake ass hair
Gimme a pretty bitch with long hair though
Apple pies in the stove while I'm whipping cooking
Niggas talking bout they whipping but they ain't whipping chicken
I'm baking everything all up in my serve box
Ooh he looking sus get out that trap spot
You ain't trying to smoke, nigga hot box
You don't wanna box, you can't fucking walk
Gone
You can't fucking walk



Credits
Writer(s): Jabril Reed
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com

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