Cooper's Hawk

Bleu de Chanel coming out my sweat glands
Still fresh as hell chill in some sweat pants
At Cooper's hawk drinking with her best friend
She a freak pulling on my waist band
I ain't drunk 40 on me cant dance
White sticks light tint no ray bands
Side bitch nice tits amen
Wide hips thighs thick fake ass
Four hour flight I think I got jet lag
Tip concierge just to check in my bags
You a window shopper you can't even pop tags
You can't get a dollar you ain't even got cash
Whole gang with me circle tight as mosh pits got whips got sticks
All you do is pop lips
Bitch I had to fail just to make a profit
My plug sent a bale through the mail like drop ship
Say the pussy mine bitch I know thats nonsense
If its really my shit let me sell it right quick
Shorty wanna fuck when we got a conflict
I just hit and bail but I'm not a convict
Got clientele got a scale high as hell hide the tails
Fly as well YSL hide the smell
Niggas think it cost a dollar just for them to keep it real
Niggas telling on they mans just so they can get a deal

How you love that
Baby say she like my tone she know I got cash
I ain't finna chase her though
I'm all in my bag
I done came a long way from that bus pass
And now I drive fast
How you love that
Baby say she like my tone she know I got cash
I ain't finna chase her though
I'm all in my bag
I done came a long way from that bus pass
And now I drive fast



Credits
Writer(s): Lawrence Whitlow
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com

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