Ritual
Aye, what
Stack my paper like you wish you could
Got my money laid out, lookin' like a ritual
Nigga touch me yeah I wish you would
9 mili hit you in your chest hard as Tyson could
Mr. Polar, Mr. Hollywood
Got your bitch posin' on my dick like a mourning hood
I wake and bake, she take the morning wood
Yeah, I hit that in pajamas, you can miss me with the drama
And I put that on my mama
I ain't blowing, no Osama
Keep it zen Dalai Lama,
Keep it trendy, Fendi Prada
If a nigga try to touch me, he gon' end up on a T-shirt
All these hatin' ass niggas really irkin' nerves
Watch the way she drop it, she could really work the curves
Peelin' out the lot, I know my tires feelin' hurt
Ayy, what
Stack my paper like you wish you could
Got my money laid out, lookin' like a ritual
Nigga touch me yeah I wish you would
9 mili hit you in your chest hard as Tyson could
Mr. Polar, Mr. Hollywood
Got your bitch posin' on my dick like a mourning hood
Yeah, took that bitch to pound town
Lil' freaky bitch, I met her ass from downtown
Yeah, my nigga found a lick, we had to hit it
Then we split it, then we had to do the dash
had to go, go, go, go
Ice on my neck, I'm finna drip
Free my big dawg, out the pen
Trippin' on me, nigga, I ain't trippin
Pimpin' all these bitches, Imma
(What?)
Stack my paper like you wish you could
Got my money laid out, lookin' like a ritual
Nigga touch me yeah I wish you would
9 mili hit you in your chest hard as Tyson could
Mr. Polar, Mr. Hollywood
Got your bitch posin' on my dick like a mourning hood
Stack my paper like you wish you could
Got my money laid out, lookin' like a ritual
Nigga touch me yeah I wish you would
9 mili hit you in your chest hard as Tyson could
Mr. Polar, Mr. Hollywood
Got your bitch posin' on my dick like a mourning hood
I wake and bake, she take the morning wood
Yeah, I hit that in pajamas, you can miss me with the drama
And I put that on my mama
I ain't blowing, no Osama
Keep it zen Dalai Lama,
Keep it trendy, Fendi Prada
If a nigga try to touch me, he gon' end up on a T-shirt
All these hatin' ass niggas really irkin' nerves
Watch the way she drop it, she could really work the curves
Peelin' out the lot, I know my tires feelin' hurt
Ayy, what
Stack my paper like you wish you could
Got my money laid out, lookin' like a ritual
Nigga touch me yeah I wish you would
9 mili hit you in your chest hard as Tyson could
Mr. Polar, Mr. Hollywood
Got your bitch posin' on my dick like a mourning hood
Yeah, took that bitch to pound town
Lil' freaky bitch, I met her ass from downtown
Yeah, my nigga found a lick, we had to hit it
Then we split it, then we had to do the dash
had to go, go, go, go
Ice on my neck, I'm finna drip
Free my big dawg, out the pen
Trippin' on me, nigga, I ain't trippin
Pimpin' all these bitches, Imma
(What?)
Stack my paper like you wish you could
Got my money laid out, lookin' like a ritual
Nigga touch me yeah I wish you would
9 mili hit you in your chest hard as Tyson could
Mr. Polar, Mr. Hollywood
Got your bitch posin' on my dick like a mourning hood
Credits
Writer(s): Louis Grahovac
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com
Link
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