TOAST (feat. $TILL.LEGACY)
Niggas is toast, like Casper, I hop in the Ghost
Two hundred and seventeen on go, we touching the dough, I love to count the o's
She wanna be my side hoe, she eatin' my meat like a taco
Is that bitch on her cycle?
She say she crazy, a psycho
She hop on my lap, it's her seat
She givin' me brain like a geek
We go together like Fronto and weed
So slide to the crib for a week
I'm beating her back like the beat
Let's grab some bottles and roll some spliffs
They know that we lit
It is what it is
I had to stay down just to get rich
They mad at me, cause my wallet can't bend
I switch up the look, call me Ben ten
I keep it a hundred like Benjamin
I look at her body just like Goddamn
I stay cooked like a frying pan
Nigga I'm sick to the sinus
You niggas be lyin' your life is so trifling
You gon' cap on the internet, but I don't buy it
My pockets is fat, I don't do no diet
Yo bitch got high mileage, my bitch in designer
My liquor not cider, I'm high like a pilot
I'm not into typing', so let's get to fighting
I can't give indicted, that shit got me frightened
The President Biden, but I'm not about it
I pick my bitch up straight from the islands
I keep going, but I don't get tired
Yeah, you know that we vibin
I got issues, I can't
I can't even face em'
Running from my past
I been speed racing
My digital dash, it's been relayed
My mama watched me crash
But now I don't need paper
But guess what, we up,
Bad lil' hoe tryna text wassup
She threw me the cat in the back of the truck
He gon' say who his brother till he switch up
Two hundred and seventeen getting lit when we pop out
Rockstar shit, but we ain't finna drop out
Ooh, fire, shit with the Glock out
Mob ties, we finna slide out
My dysfunction gets OD
I been high for like three weeks
Take a look at the sky and you'll see me
Finna hop in a spaceship with ET
No more conversations, for the world, I lost my patience
Yeah, she say fuck the world, she say fuck the world
She said she a classy girl, I know she nasty girl
Finna throw that backy girl, cause she a classy girl
Run it to that sacky girl, just like a tracky girl
Bitch I'm talking to ratchet girl, she get to clapping girl
Niggas is toast, like Casper, I hop in the Ghost
Two hundred and seventeen, on go, we touching the dough, I love to count up the O's
She wanna be my side hoe, she eatin' my meat like a taco
Is that bitch on her cycle? She say she crazy a psycho
Two hundred and seventeen on go, we touching the dough, I love to count the o's
She wanna be my side hoe, she eatin' my meat like a taco
Is that bitch on her cycle?
She say she crazy, a psycho
She hop on my lap, it's her seat
She givin' me brain like a geek
We go together like Fronto and weed
So slide to the crib for a week
I'm beating her back like the beat
Let's grab some bottles and roll some spliffs
They know that we lit
It is what it is
I had to stay down just to get rich
They mad at me, cause my wallet can't bend
I switch up the look, call me Ben ten
I keep it a hundred like Benjamin
I look at her body just like Goddamn
I stay cooked like a frying pan
Nigga I'm sick to the sinus
You niggas be lyin' your life is so trifling
You gon' cap on the internet, but I don't buy it
My pockets is fat, I don't do no diet
Yo bitch got high mileage, my bitch in designer
My liquor not cider, I'm high like a pilot
I'm not into typing', so let's get to fighting
I can't give indicted, that shit got me frightened
The President Biden, but I'm not about it
I pick my bitch up straight from the islands
I keep going, but I don't get tired
Yeah, you know that we vibin
I got issues, I can't
I can't even face em'
Running from my past
I been speed racing
My digital dash, it's been relayed
My mama watched me crash
But now I don't need paper
But guess what, we up,
Bad lil' hoe tryna text wassup
She threw me the cat in the back of the truck
He gon' say who his brother till he switch up
Two hundred and seventeen getting lit when we pop out
Rockstar shit, but we ain't finna drop out
Ooh, fire, shit with the Glock out
Mob ties, we finna slide out
My dysfunction gets OD
I been high for like three weeks
Take a look at the sky and you'll see me
Finna hop in a spaceship with ET
No more conversations, for the world, I lost my patience
Yeah, she say fuck the world, she say fuck the world
She said she a classy girl, I know she nasty girl
Finna throw that backy girl, cause she a classy girl
Run it to that sacky girl, just like a tracky girl
Bitch I'm talking to ratchet girl, she get to clapping girl
Niggas is toast, like Casper, I hop in the Ghost
Two hundred and seventeen, on go, we touching the dough, I love to count up the O's
She wanna be my side hoe, she eatin' my meat like a taco
Is that bitch on her cycle? She say she crazy a psycho
Credits
Writer(s): Lefa Askew
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com
Link
© 2024 All rights reserved. Rockol.com S.r.l. Website image policy
Rockol
- Rockol only uses images and photos made available for promotional purposes (“for press use”) by record companies, artist managements and p.r. agencies.
- Said images are used to exert a right to report and a finality of the criticism, in a degraded mode compliant to copyright laws, and exclusively inclosed in our own informative content.
- Only non-exclusive images addressed to newspaper use and, in general, copyright-free are accepted.
- Live photos are published when licensed by photographers whose copyright is quoted.
- Rockol is available to pay the right holder a fair fee should a published image’s author be unknown at the time of publishing.
Feedback
Please immediately report the presence of images possibly not compliant with the above cases so as to quickly verify an improper use: where confirmed, we would immediately proceed to their removal.