Festival 8

I don't have time to not have time for shit, yea
Geeked up yea I climb, I'm tryna get high as I can get
Wallet on New Testament, my paper infinite
Do not play with me, boy I'm in my element, okay
Niggas tryna plot, he get wet up
We just put holes in his umbrella (oh my, oh my god)

My bitch a hidden gem, Imma just call her Tiffany
Niggas be talking all that shit but they cannot get rid of me (SKIRT)
Horsepower all in the whip, I think that bitch on ketamine
My bitch a dime, your bitch a nickel
I tell her come through and tickle my pickle
My blood filled with icicles
I pray bro beat cell like sickle
Water my neck, yea watch it trickle
Mind driving autopilot, call me Tesla
She give me knowledge, she my professor
Look at my wallet it's filled up with treasure
Got a lot of sons but I don't see no successor
I got a customized leather
Ooh, watch how I put it together
I put it together like sewing machines
Raise against the machine
I pop that bitch in her jellybean
She say she love me, I told that bitch just keep it a bean
I'm a real life scumbag, my cup always dirty, ew
That's nasty
White folks said "That boy too flashy"
Mac & cheese on me, I'm too crafty
Glocky pop pop pop like acne
She too petty, tryna tit for tat me
She suck my A, B, C
You know what come after that
What is that that I see?
Oh, it's a bag, uh, Imma run after that
If I shoot this bitch, better duck, uh, like aflac
I be flipping packs like a manage acrobats
Pussy deep like a cave, I live inside like a bat

Shhh, shut up, I don't wanna do no chit-chat
Bitch, suck it, suck it up make them lips smack
Yes, I'm high, high I turned to Snorlax
You chose your side, ain't no ain't no turning back, yea



Credits
Writer(s): Isaiah Watts
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com

Link