Final Form

Fuck that bitch no I won't give her a text
Fuck her feelings she sad she cry bout a ex
I like money them blue strips I go flex
Whole lotta paper on me yeah I just like them checks
Whole lotta money on me them niggas they don't got next
Shawty a freak she throwing that neck
Acog scope on my tec
He want smoke well give him a vest
Put him to the test now he put to rest
Told shawty pipe down she all on my chest
She breathing so heavy she all on my neck

I told shawty to quit with the shit
She saying she love me and shit
These niggas be going out sick
I spilled all the wock on my fit
I hop in that vette and I test it
I fucked her I'm on to the next bitch
I don't give a fuck bout yo necklace
Pussy ass nigga they always be texting

Srt when I skirt off the block with that chop and these niggas be bitches not opps
These nigga pussy be bragging on shit that they don't even do they be sucking on cock
I had to stop getting high when my bro tried to snake he went dropped the lo to the opps
I learned to stop chasing hoes when I got my heart broken got mad and went shot a opp
These niggas cheese without chucky they don't get a token they still rapping like it's kid Bop
I had to get off my ass and go get a bag while these niggas in the same spot
I know these niggas they mad these niggas they envy me that's why they never on top
I ha to tell that bitch wait like a hold on a dminute my bae she like shooting the Glock



Credits
Writer(s): Willie Hollins
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com

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