Dank. Bass. Funk.

Sicker than your average
Ain't nobody Ill-er
I might fly my bitch to Paris
I be in my section
I be rolling up some cabbage
I ain't smoking with you,
You gone get yo ass embarrassed
I was steady hitting til she said
"We should get married"
I was tryna dip
But then she looked at me like Carrie
If I had some ice on my neck, id be worried
When the sun shines on the shit, it gets blurry
I done left the pass where it is,
I'm in my bag on a bitch
Popping tags,
But a nigga never tried on the shit
Its alright,
Cause I'm liking what I like,
And that's it
Check the price,
And I never really mind what it says

Swear I got the dank in the back,
And we good
Bet I got a pack with me,
Everywhere I go
Bet I got the bass in the back of the truck
Came in with the bass,
Imma die for the funk

Bet the boys coming with some water
It be running off
Make a bitch go and jump for joy
Maybe somersault
I ain't tryna have a conversation
'Less its money talk
Word to Lil Baby
Hit the stage up for a honey-bun
I ain't spitting game,
She hit the floor and put that ass up
New whips gonna take me out to space
Thats word to Nasa
Back up, Im tearing heads off
Like fucking bath salts
Match up, Im more like Redman
I smoke the pack up

Swear I got the dank in the back,
And we good
Bet I got a pack with me,
Everywhere I go
Bet I got the bass in the back of the truck
Came in with the bass,
Imma die for the funk



Credits
Writer(s): Ismail Davis
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com

Link