IE Boogie
I was born from the nonsense L.A. Plus I'm narco, need shit my way
Ain't no subbing my nigga, just talk straight Talk sideways, I'll beat your ass broad day
But they know that, old enough to show that Skinny ass nigga move the weight out her backpack
I get a P for eighth, nigga pass that Driving No hands, rolling blunts in the fast
track I've been on the way, I'm on the move
I'm moving with shit to lose, I'm moving with shit to prove
Needed all blues, these bitches ain't got a clue
Bullets made them ooze, these niggas ain't got the proof
What he gon' do, told his main bitch to play me
Hit me on the FaceTime, he ain't wanna face me
Shawty love me long time, who knew she was Asian
I'm here for a good time, fuck a vacation Man, this shit a breeze
Man, this shit a breeze, I ain't letting niggas hit the Hennessy
Aint fucking on no bitch, if she smoking on that nicotine
But if I get better? I'm that nigga
Thought she was perfect, cause her ass got bigger
She not a virgin, she a bonafide sister I want it now, I'm a mess
Tryna hold my liquor, I'm on the rocks What you gon' do now
Jesus come and get me, feeling Mickey in this clubhouse
Put it on the floor, she getting tricky, might get dug out
Hey, she might get dug out, whoa
I might hit Mulatto with this one
Hit him with that fire, wasn't mine in his business
Copy pulled me over, cause the window was tinted
He couldn't see me, told that nigga need to work on his vision
I'm feeling blessed, stand up, citizen
Did enough deals to appreciate a middle man
Never cut me short, cause I spin you like a ceiling fan
Up on all ends, if it's down, we run it up again
We run it up again, I ain't letting niggas hit the Hennessy
I fucking on no bitch if she's smoking on that nicotine
I need a grown bitch that's tryna get ratchet
Grown bitch, 21, no savage
Grown bitch, new crib, new paddock
Grown bitch, no kids, no pappy, damn
Acting like I'm tryna get married, damn
Acting like she tryna get married, damn
Don't work, divorce, Nick Cary
Don't work, divorce, Nick Cary
Ain't no subbing my nigga, just talk straight Talk sideways, I'll beat your ass broad day
But they know that, old enough to show that Skinny ass nigga move the weight out her backpack
I get a P for eighth, nigga pass that Driving No hands, rolling blunts in the fast
track I've been on the way, I'm on the move
I'm moving with shit to lose, I'm moving with shit to prove
Needed all blues, these bitches ain't got a clue
Bullets made them ooze, these niggas ain't got the proof
What he gon' do, told his main bitch to play me
Hit me on the FaceTime, he ain't wanna face me
Shawty love me long time, who knew she was Asian
I'm here for a good time, fuck a vacation Man, this shit a breeze
Man, this shit a breeze, I ain't letting niggas hit the Hennessy
Aint fucking on no bitch, if she smoking on that nicotine
But if I get better? I'm that nigga
Thought she was perfect, cause her ass got bigger
She not a virgin, she a bonafide sister I want it now, I'm a mess
Tryna hold my liquor, I'm on the rocks What you gon' do now
Jesus come and get me, feeling Mickey in this clubhouse
Put it on the floor, she getting tricky, might get dug out
Hey, she might get dug out, whoa
I might hit Mulatto with this one
Hit him with that fire, wasn't mine in his business
Copy pulled me over, cause the window was tinted
He couldn't see me, told that nigga need to work on his vision
I'm feeling blessed, stand up, citizen
Did enough deals to appreciate a middle man
Never cut me short, cause I spin you like a ceiling fan
Up on all ends, if it's down, we run it up again
We run it up again, I ain't letting niggas hit the Hennessy
I fucking on no bitch if she's smoking on that nicotine
I need a grown bitch that's tryna get ratchet
Grown bitch, 21, no savage
Grown bitch, new crib, new paddock
Grown bitch, no kids, no pappy, damn
Acting like I'm tryna get married, damn
Acting like she tryna get married, damn
Don't work, divorce, Nick Cary
Don't work, divorce, Nick Cary
Credits
Writer(s): Matthew Nobles
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com
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