Cool!
Yeah, walk in asylum I'm wilding I'm already drunk
Yeah, if he not talkin bout money, I don't give a fuck
Yeah, he tried to play with my money, we sendin' it up
Yeah, if I'm ever runnin' out of money, then somebody just gettin set up
Yeah, if I'm ever runnin' out of money, then I'm robbin' the bank for the loot
Yeah, I got three bands on my shoes
I got your bitch on my body, that's why I keep callin', her fruit of the loom
I gave some bands to my shooter, he wiping your city, I told that boy nuke
I put some bands in my wallet and tucked in my shirt and I made it look cool
Yeah, ridin', I'm ridin' the coupe
Yeah, tearing off the motherfuckin' roof
Yeah, tearing off the motherfuckin' ceiling
I'm double, homicide scheming
Or whatever it take just to get to your boy,
I'm goin' away for a reason
I just gotta suppress it, I don't make no noise
All I do is leave you bleedin', yeah
Why would you give me a motherfuckin' reason
Why would you give me a reason to run in your crib and take every single thing that you have
Why would you give me a reason to go take your bitch
And she in this bitch callin' me dad
She said she like my songs, she said she liking my raps
We can't even get along, everything you do is wack
Yeah, I got three bands on my shoes
I got your bitch on my body, that's why I keep callin' her fruit of the loom
I gave some bands to my shooter, he wiping your city I told that boy nuke
I put some bands in my wallet and tucked in my shirt and I made it look cool
Yeah, if he not talkin bout money, I don't give a fuck
Yeah, he tried to play with my money, we sendin' it up
Yeah, if I'm ever runnin' out of money, then somebody just gettin set up
Yeah, if I'm ever runnin' out of money, then I'm robbin' the bank for the loot
Yeah, I got three bands on my shoes
I got your bitch on my body, that's why I keep callin', her fruit of the loom
I gave some bands to my shooter, he wiping your city, I told that boy nuke
I put some bands in my wallet and tucked in my shirt and I made it look cool
Yeah, ridin', I'm ridin' the coupe
Yeah, tearing off the motherfuckin' roof
Yeah, tearing off the motherfuckin' ceiling
I'm double, homicide scheming
Or whatever it take just to get to your boy,
I'm goin' away for a reason
I just gotta suppress it, I don't make no noise
All I do is leave you bleedin', yeah
Why would you give me a motherfuckin' reason
Why would you give me a reason to run in your crib and take every single thing that you have
Why would you give me a reason to go take your bitch
And she in this bitch callin' me dad
She said she like my songs, she said she liking my raps
We can't even get along, everything you do is wack
Yeah, I got three bands on my shoes
I got your bitch on my body, that's why I keep callin' her fruit of the loom
I gave some bands to my shooter, he wiping your city I told that boy nuke
I put some bands in my wallet and tucked in my shirt and I made it look cool
Credits
Writer(s): Roberto Ramos
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com
Link
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