Stop Dying (feat. Brdwy Ev & Cameron816)
That bitch not really bad
She be catfishin'
Get a pack then I get it gone
Watch me back flip it
I was chillin' for a little minute
Now I'm back trippin'
You be smokin' boof
I'm smokin' gas
So our pack different
Speeding down in an AMG
I got the straps with me
Could've got booked
Luckily I ain't have no pack with me
Bitch left me down bad
See the motion
Trying to get back with me
Yeah
Like bitch it ain't that easy
Dog ass speaking down on Pat
Left his ass leaking
Bro trippin' ran off with the scat
Boy it's lash season
All exotic
Got the gas on me
Boy the pack reeking
Finna make it rain in this bitch
Boy it's cash season
Boy I did this shit myself
Imma pour a foh of wok
I'm not worried about my health
I got good karma coming
All this pain that I felt
I'm not trying to play no games
These the cards I was dealt
Them bows sitting at yo crib
Nigga you ain't made a sell
And my chop fat as hell
Got it singing like Adele
I can't fuck with nobody
Niggas worried 'bout they selves
Got this heat sensor on me
Finna make his shoulder melt
You can't hold the belt
Niggas really think they heavyweights
You can't hold the belt
I be swimming in that pussy like I'm Michael Phelps
Niggas need some help
Aye
Give me head like you trying to kill a zombie
My emo bitch bad but she want me to call her mommy
Sorry
Three hoes with me so I'm jolly
Only care about the pape that's my problem
Only care about the pape I'm just honest
Extensions on the Glock long hair
Pocahontas
He gone die as a cluck if he buck like Giannis
On my momma
On my momma
She be catfishin'
Get a pack then I get it gone
Watch me back flip it
I was chillin' for a little minute
Now I'm back trippin'
You be smokin' boof
I'm smokin' gas
So our pack different
Speeding down in an AMG
I got the straps with me
Could've got booked
Luckily I ain't have no pack with me
Bitch left me down bad
See the motion
Trying to get back with me
Yeah
Like bitch it ain't that easy
Dog ass speaking down on Pat
Left his ass leaking
Bro trippin' ran off with the scat
Boy it's lash season
All exotic
Got the gas on me
Boy the pack reeking
Finna make it rain in this bitch
Boy it's cash season
Boy I did this shit myself
Imma pour a foh of wok
I'm not worried about my health
I got good karma coming
All this pain that I felt
I'm not trying to play no games
These the cards I was dealt
Them bows sitting at yo crib
Nigga you ain't made a sell
And my chop fat as hell
Got it singing like Adele
I can't fuck with nobody
Niggas worried 'bout they selves
Got this heat sensor on me
Finna make his shoulder melt
You can't hold the belt
Niggas really think they heavyweights
You can't hold the belt
I be swimming in that pussy like I'm Michael Phelps
Niggas need some help
Aye
Give me head like you trying to kill a zombie
My emo bitch bad but she want me to call her mommy
Sorry
Three hoes with me so I'm jolly
Only care about the pape that's my problem
Only care about the pape I'm just honest
Extensions on the Glock long hair
Pocahontas
He gone die as a cluck if he buck like Giannis
On my momma
On my momma
Credits
Writer(s): Odis Barnett, Evan Springer
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com
Link
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