Sac Shit

He from the Bay I'm a put him on some Sac shit
Aye little ma what you know about this rap shit
Booty so big i just know he want to smack it
My neck and wrist so cold I'm a need a fucking jacket
Know I got the Juice now he thinking I'm from Harlem
I love bad bitches that's my motherfucking problem
No ghost writer bitch when rap it's all me
Know I'm hotter than you bitches got it 400 degrees

I don't see no competition only bitch I fear is me
And I'm known for rolling woods
Ayo ma pass me my tree
You texting bitches in my face
You can fuck around and leave
Get revenge on this nigga
Hit his bitch and made her cream and that's facts
I'm the female goat and I can put that on my mama
Any bitch that want it get it
Always ready for that drama
I'm the hottest in my region
So I got these bitches pressed
Got the money got the talent
Can't believe I'm this blessed
And my New York nigga man he love to play some dice
So when he coming home to me
Just know he cum to something tight
And the way he jump on me
That nigga stuck like white on rice
But I don't give out head
When i spit it's on the mic
Like pussy niggas always trying to leak shit
Sneak diss
Can't you tell I always been a freak bitch?
Eat this
I put the pressure on these hoes
Ain't never been a weak bitch
The way you talking on the net
It put my ass to sleep sis

He from the Bay I'm a put him on some Sac shit
Aye little ma what you know about this rap shit
Booty so big i just know he want to smack it
My neck and wrist so cold I'm a need a fucking jacket
Know I got the Juice now he thinking I'm from Harlem
I love bad bitches that's my motherfucking problem
No ghost writer bitch when rap it's all me
Know I'm hotter than you bitches got it 400 degrees

He gone do what I say
Smile for me say cheese
Matta fact fuck that
Nigga get down on your knees
He fell in love with this pussy
Now he want to marry me
Is you boss cause if not
You ain't getting shit for free (hell nah)
I need that Gucci
Need that Louis
Need that Fendi
Need that Prada
If you can't afford the price
Then tell your friend to come and holla
And I know he got them bucks
I heard him bragging he a scholar
Scammed the nigga out his bag
I only left him w a dollar
But shit
I heard y'all want that Goat Talk
These bitches tight
You would think that they had some Botox
He ain't a crip
But I like the way he crip walk
Plus he think I'm cute
I think he like the way I shit talk (aye)
WestCoast Baby on the motherfucking track
Any bars that I spit
Yeah I wrote and that's a facts
I'm running circles around you bitches
I'm a take another lap
Fuck this bitch talking shit
You know sac where it at hoe

He from the Bay I'm a put him on some Sac shit
Aye little ma what you know about this rap shit
Booty so big I just know he want to smack it
My neck and wrist so cold I'm a need a fucking jacket
Know I got the Juice now he thinking I'm from Harlem
I love bad bitches that's my motherfucking problem
No ghost writer bitch when rap it's all me
Know I'm hotter than you bitches got it 400 degrees



Credits
Writer(s): Lacey West
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com

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