Whats Going On?

Baby uhh (Fa, Fa)
Tell me what's going on baby
Yeah (yeah)
What's going on
I've been gone for a minute you heard me
What's going on
Now I'm back and I'm better
What's going on baby

Look
I stopped
Running from my problems
Faced em all head on collision
And i swear i thought i was trippin when i started having visions
I can't explain what I be seeing
I just know who im gon' be with
I'm an outer worldly being
I'm might just probe you on some BS
Remember 2016 fucking round with
Frank Rico & DS
Me and Kell was running troll
When a tire blew up off the GS
Head so fye she left me speechless
I could feel her skill increasing
Got a white girl she too freaky
Fuck her in the air she screaming
The hotel hot & steamy
Out in houston tryna free my mental
At 21 years old been all over the globe
I'm Mr. Continental
I float on instrumentals
Cause my skill set fundamental
When I blow its gon' be consequential
When I do don't be resentful
Bitch

I'm snapping more than a barber quartet
5711 Patek
I had a dream I fucked Chelle in a jet
Then she gave me neck while I'm whipping the vette
I'm already verified dont need a check
I dont know who yall is tryna impress
I knead the dough hella long for baguettes
My shooting Armstrong boy I'm feeling like Stretch
Like fuck it i'm going retarded
Oh you finna cancel me?
Go join the party
Swanton Bomb a nigga no Jeff Hardy
She ask if i love her i told the bitch hardly
Seth coming through with the crew in a Harley
I need The Milli-o aint talking Charlie
If the booty don't ripple
It ain't part of her body
If I wanted plastic I'd cop me a barbie

What's going on
Tell me whats wrong
And I don't even know myself
So I can't even ask for help
I'm going strong
Alone so long
My motivation slipping way from me
And this shit ain't okay with me

I'm flying down 441
In the Maxima tryna catch us sum
Everyone know how we come
Palm-Ganistan is where I'm from
Never Fold ain't never run
Most of yall never shot a gun
Let alone ever shot at sum
Driver with me to a hole in one
Not everyone make it out the mud
Why everyone wanna be a thug (Let's Go!)
Everyday we lose a son
Everyday we kill for none
Seeming like they kill for fun
Crackers lose they minds for Trump
Won't catch me up inside the club
Less they paying bout dub

What's going on
Tell me whats wrong
And I can't even help myself
So I can't even ask for help
Alone so long
My heart is numb
My motivation slipping way from me
Say this shit ain't okay with me like



Credits
Writer(s): Elijah May
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com

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