Armyy

Got a nine I pop it like molly
Your hoe yea she wants me
That hoe all up on me
With them sticks like the army
I Ain't never tell a hoe sorry
That lil boy he salty, cuz I'm goin up
Spent a bag on my shoes, and I'm like that
Bob the builder with the tools, I don't gotta fight back
Pockets on blues clues, no your money not like that
Why he like that, I don't even Know

Shout out Meech yea, you know you my bro
I Got all these hoes, all up in my phone
But I don't want no one, leave me alone
I Don't want your hoe, I got my own
Rick all on my toe, that's how I stunt
Diamonds shining, like the fucking sun
Why he cryin, he know he my son
Why he tryin, we can get him gone

Got a nine I pop it like molly
Your hoe yea she wants me
That hoe all up on me
With them sticks like the army
I Ain't never tell a hoe sorry
That lil boy he salty, cuz I'm goin up
Spent a bag on my shoes, and I'm like that
Bob the builder with the tools, I don't gotta fight back
Pockets on blues clues, no your money not like that
Why he like that, I don't even Know



Credits
Writer(s): Nathan Craft
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com

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