She Fell In Love with the Cake

It's mali
Yeah yeah
Yeah yeah
Yeah yeah
Oh

She fell in love with the cake
Woah woah woah
Tryna get a hunnid k
Oh woah woah
Ima get rich today
Oh woah woah
Do it yesterday
Yeah yeah

She fell in love with the cake
Tryna run me up a hunnid k
I'm getting rich today
Fuck it do it yesterday
Fuckin foreign women
Thinking that they love me
But they really just want me for my money

I be marching with the bands
Tryna run it up
When I spit into the mic
I gotta eat it up
Ima ball out
Go so hard
I do not give a fuck
When I fall down
Dust myself off
And I get back up
I was failing classes senior year of high school
Thing is I'm not dumb
Nigga I am not a fool
Bitch I'm stubborn
And I only go by my own rules
But I run it up got some bands for me and you

I was runnin in the field
I'm playing soccer
I was JV
Didn't make the roster
Now I made it
Take my mom out to Red Lobster
Gucci, Louie V
Everything I bought her

She fell in love with the cake
Tryna run me up a hunnid k
I'm getting rich today
Fuck it do it yesterday
Fuckin foreign women
Thinking that they love me
But they really just want me for my money

Taking all these drugs
Think my brain need to relax
My mom told me to get smart
Stop paying that stupid tax
Now I'm making all this money
Counting up all my stacks
And I'm dripping hard yeah
Gucci bucket hat

Not from California but they call me hollywood
Can't text back cuz she dance on my dick like Bollywood
I go chugga chugga cho like I knew I would
Always scrappin up some dollars
Tryna see what plug was good
Ima get me all this Guap
Ima count me up some cheddar
Ain't been eating off this addy
Getting light just like a feather
And I'm stuck up in this rain
Really tired of this weather
But everyday I wake up
Get a lil better

She fell in love with the cake
Tryna run me up a hunnid k
I'm getting rich today
Fuck it do it yesterday
Fuckin foreign women
Thinking that they love me
But they really just want me for my money

Oh
I got gold on my neck
Still the same young nigga
Ollies on my deck
Speedin in the i8
Pray I don't wreck
Gotta cold heart
Gotta keep it on patek
Now my wrist froze
Call that icey patek
I'm just focused on what's next
I'm just tryna get a check
Thoughts in my head
Drivin me insane
Think it's time for me to get out this place
Kids in the city keep dying
Mommas keep crying
Why it gotta be that way



Credits
Writer(s): Malachi Tyrone
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com

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