Breaking Bad
Aye
Aye, ya, ya
Running back, got these niggas mad
Wait
I gave em Couldn't Change, they bump that shit like who is that
Swervin' catchin' bags, no I swear this ain't a fad
Lately been touchin' racks, like this shit was Breaking Bad
Walked in, Walter White cause bitch I'm in the lab
Talk then, one thing bout niggas man they skip the facts
We keep them legal blicks, pushin' up don't make me snap
Never been a gangsta, I'm just in the game like Warren Sapp (Ayeee, Unhhh)
You know my gang legit
I just fucked her bestie, cause I really could then ghost the bitch
Locked out
Ain't a lame, so bitch come check it out (Check it out)
Boutta ball, like I'm James, so what you sayin' now
Rock star, but fuck the fame I ain't stressin' that (Ain't no stress)
I get a rack I flip it, Stevie workin' like In-N-Out (Fa, Fa)
Don't got no shit he renegade, so please just get em' out (Get em' out)
Way before I ever fold, you'll see a billy hit yo account (Damn)
Aye
I'm really from the south
Really like my bitches thick, white girls cool, but I like em' brown (Like em' brown)
How they fuck the Lang up, I don't know what niggas do
I just walked up out the bank, coppin' shit like this is cool (This is cool)
Need a 50 pack, split with gang cause they dudes
450 on jeans nigga, 450 before the tax (Let's go)
That's a rack, like we worked on vert again
Marni cardigan, lookin' preppy my name Gilligan
Lookin' in the mirror, smirkin' like damn what plan
Ca$hout be the rainman, way before that I was weatherman (I was weatherman)
Takin' bitches out (Ayee), that's a light tab (Facts, facts)
Wait his bitch out (Ouu), she ain't write back
Cuzzo sent an ounce (Ayee), bitch he like Nash
I got my BM drip, boujee bitch she like cash (Walk, walk)
Kid it hurt to walk, city on my fuckin back
Really come from Miramar, out east baby, go check the map (Go check the map)
Unh, exotic zeb and food
Icon, I'm in Brickell, 40 floors up Ima touch the moon
Ain't it really strange, why they copy, How that's cool
No hook on this bitch nigga, I'm talking shit you niggas food
Really bout my chips nigga, winning blood don't ever lose
Stevie goin' stack for stack, feel like '08 Carlos Booz
Ayee, ya
COG, COG, COG
Aye, ya, ya
Running back, got these niggas mad
Wait
I gave em Couldn't Change, they bump that shit like who is that
Swervin' catchin' bags, no I swear this ain't a fad
Lately been touchin' racks, like this shit was Breaking Bad
Walked in, Walter White cause bitch I'm in the lab
Talk then, one thing bout niggas man they skip the facts
We keep them legal blicks, pushin' up don't make me snap
Never been a gangsta, I'm just in the game like Warren Sapp (Ayeee, Unhhh)
You know my gang legit
I just fucked her bestie, cause I really could then ghost the bitch
Locked out
Ain't a lame, so bitch come check it out (Check it out)
Boutta ball, like I'm James, so what you sayin' now
Rock star, but fuck the fame I ain't stressin' that (Ain't no stress)
I get a rack I flip it, Stevie workin' like In-N-Out (Fa, Fa)
Don't got no shit he renegade, so please just get em' out (Get em' out)
Way before I ever fold, you'll see a billy hit yo account (Damn)
Aye
I'm really from the south
Really like my bitches thick, white girls cool, but I like em' brown (Like em' brown)
How they fuck the Lang up, I don't know what niggas do
I just walked up out the bank, coppin' shit like this is cool (This is cool)
Need a 50 pack, split with gang cause they dudes
450 on jeans nigga, 450 before the tax (Let's go)
That's a rack, like we worked on vert again
Marni cardigan, lookin' preppy my name Gilligan
Lookin' in the mirror, smirkin' like damn what plan
Ca$hout be the rainman, way before that I was weatherman (I was weatherman)
Takin' bitches out (Ayee), that's a light tab (Facts, facts)
Wait his bitch out (Ouu), she ain't write back
Cuzzo sent an ounce (Ayee), bitch he like Nash
I got my BM drip, boujee bitch she like cash (Walk, walk)
Kid it hurt to walk, city on my fuckin back
Really come from Miramar, out east baby, go check the map (Go check the map)
Unh, exotic zeb and food
Icon, I'm in Brickell, 40 floors up Ima touch the moon
Ain't it really strange, why they copy, How that's cool
No hook on this bitch nigga, I'm talking shit you niggas food
Really bout my chips nigga, winning blood don't ever lose
Stevie goin' stack for stack, feel like '08 Carlos Booz
Ayee, ya
COG, COG, COG
Credits
Writer(s): Stephen Lyons
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com
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