Fr

G

Just made a mili
Now they wanna see me
Prada, Gucci, Fendi
Giving em to Wendy
Chillin with gang in the rarri
Yeah your bitch stopped calling
I came I saw i conquered
She thought she caught me off guard

I love to win
They wanna join the team
Puff puff and pass that shit
Nah nah don't hold that shit
Wasup
With all the sneak dissin
Miss me with that or get missing
Damn men
These niggas be lame as hell
Wrong move
We see your red blood cell

I hate a bitch that talks too much
You can never see me with such
I had to switch up last minute
Found out
She was a counterfeit
Free the gang
And all dem members too
The oppers
Know better not to play with you
Never forget why you started
You can't afford now to be
Faint - hearted
This shit don't come easy Fr
That's why
We don't give a fuck how you feel
Watch out
For all the rats and snakes
Don't want
No one around me fake
If I took your bitch
My apology
Now you really know
She's for the streets
Fresh off the jet it's Giddy G
Hide your bitches
Or watch em cheat



Credits
Writer(s): Gideon Peterside
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com

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