Divine
Yeah, XO, uh, yeah
I got thoughts about some money when I wake up, it's a habit
I ain't livin' in a dream, I know that shit makin' 'em madder
Rubber band to hold the paper, I like the sound of the elastic
I keep swervin' out the lane for tryna roll this wood in traffic
If you press 'em, know they got it, they be prone to get it poppin'
Ain't a thing to set it straight, yeah, line it up, you outta pocket
Gotta have a few bands ready if you really shoppin' (if you shoppin')
Yeah, uh
I've been tryna get a stack, you need 'em P's then you can tap in
And that bread so simultaneous, it go out while it come in
Told my homie he don't like me, I was 'round him, he said nothin'
I don't beef 'cause he a bitch, but I could really show you somethin'
You ain't got no hustle in yo' ass for real, so why you stuntin'?
And you flexin' like you got it, actually you need to cut it
Got two 12's the back of my shit, SRT, a bitch be bumpin'
And they ask me 'bout my life, I always tell 'em, "Bitch, I love it"
Bitch, I love it
Won't ever catch me runnin' from a bitch, too quick to bust it
Don't compare me to another hoe (yeah)
Yeah, I got issues, I can't trust 'em, I can't hang around a lame
They're the type to go
No shit, he quick to aim, you gotta hit 'em with precision
He be talkin' all that tough shit, matter of fact, I don't believe 'em
And I know they hatin', you ain't gotta say it, I don't see 'em
Ran it up through every season, they be tweakin' for no reason
Really put 'em in position, you gon' make me pull my resume
Now they payin' attention, I see better through some Cartier
Move smart when I invest it, you went spent it in the same place
I ain't even keep a secret, I got rich and gave 'em free game
You don't see me 'round 'em
Reason bein', probably couldn't wait for them
Was dissin' from a distance, got the nerve to ask how I've been
I'ma hustle like I'm broke, I got the drop on all the back ends
Ain't approach me right the first time, it's just funny how they pretend
Bitch, I love it
Won't ever catch me runnin' from a bitch, too quick to bust it
Don't compare me to another hoe
Yeah, I got issues, I can't trust 'em, I can't hang around a lame
They're the type to go
Uh, yeah
They're the type to
I got thoughts about some money when I wake up, it's a habit
I ain't livin' in a dream, I know that shit makin' 'em madder
Rubber band to hold the paper, I like the sound of the elastic
I keep swervin' out the lane for tryna roll this wood in traffic
If you press 'em, know they got it, they be prone to get it poppin'
Ain't a thing to set it straight, yeah, line it up, you outta pocket
Gotta have a few bands ready if you really shoppin' (if you shoppin')
Yeah, uh
I've been tryna get a stack, you need 'em P's then you can tap in
And that bread so simultaneous, it go out while it come in
Told my homie he don't like me, I was 'round him, he said nothin'
I don't beef 'cause he a bitch, but I could really show you somethin'
You ain't got no hustle in yo' ass for real, so why you stuntin'?
And you flexin' like you got it, actually you need to cut it
Got two 12's the back of my shit, SRT, a bitch be bumpin'
And they ask me 'bout my life, I always tell 'em, "Bitch, I love it"
Bitch, I love it
Won't ever catch me runnin' from a bitch, too quick to bust it
Don't compare me to another hoe (yeah)
Yeah, I got issues, I can't trust 'em, I can't hang around a lame
They're the type to go
No shit, he quick to aim, you gotta hit 'em with precision
He be talkin' all that tough shit, matter of fact, I don't believe 'em
And I know they hatin', you ain't gotta say it, I don't see 'em
Ran it up through every season, they be tweakin' for no reason
Really put 'em in position, you gon' make me pull my resume
Now they payin' attention, I see better through some Cartier
Move smart when I invest it, you went spent it in the same place
I ain't even keep a secret, I got rich and gave 'em free game
You don't see me 'round 'em
Reason bein', probably couldn't wait for them
Was dissin' from a distance, got the nerve to ask how I've been
I'ma hustle like I'm broke, I got the drop on all the back ends
Ain't approach me right the first time, it's just funny how they pretend
Bitch, I love it
Won't ever catch me runnin' from a bitch, too quick to bust it
Don't compare me to another hoe
Yeah, I got issues, I can't trust 'em, I can't hang around a lame
They're the type to go
Uh, yeah
They're the type to
Credits
Writer(s): Alexandra Dawn Fastuca, Zachary Enriquez
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com
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