Talk Til She Tired

She wanna call and 'gon talk 'til she tired
I got these racks on the job, they for hire
Moving the chains, mine got tears it's a crier
I put an F on all four of my tires
Whip the elbow like a Lam, where my driver
I get it over the counter, I'm higher

I get these racks in of course
Money come in and that ain't off a tour
Gucci decor, spend a check when I'm bored
I like her more if I think I can score
She say that she knew me before, baby you just know the better me
We sparking up like the fourth of July, we so high ain't nobody ahead of me
I plant the seed like it's sesame
I had to earn all my stripes like a referee
I get the bacon and bring that shit home, and I ain't talking Penelope
Ain't a plug, don't have the energy
Invested too much to get a felony
I know I'm cutting myself off, but I can't let nobody get to me

She wanna call and 'gon talk 'til she tired
I got these racks on the job, they for hire
Moving the chains, mine got tears it's a crier
I put an F on all four of my tires
Whip the elbow like a Lam, where my driver
I get it over the counter, I'm higher

I be smoking Polo down (Young Dro, Backwoods)
That's a whole lotta rounds
And she give a whole lotta mouth
I bet she can't fold on me now
Baby don't blow my high
You be taking all my time
You 'gon make me roll my eyes
She ain't no hoe, but she give me her thoughts
Money come in when I drop
Can't afford to waste time, 'cuz I don't got a lot
But I ain't worried 'bout a price
I buy it all, but can't spend my life
Don't splice, I can't switch sides
And her teeth all white like lice
So you know I'm tryna get top

She wanna call and 'gon talk 'til she tired
I got these racks on the job, they for hire
Moving the chains, mine got tears it's a crier
I put an F on all four of my tires
Whip the elbow like a Lam, where my driver
I get it over the counter, I'm higher



Credits
Writer(s): Collin Innes
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com

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