What We Doin Later?

Aye foe, let me punch in real quick like
Let me rap for two minutes and yall got this shit
Y'all could have the whole studio like
Mic, Keyboard, all this shit
Run it

I'm finna kill the beat, do not resuscitate it
My shooter tote Ks and a hood, sound like something racist
Don't compare me to your last nigga, this an us arrangement
She let me kill every Friday, think I'm becoming Jason

I ain't here for small talk, I just come for payment
We just get the bag and go on some running late shit
Cuzz known for moving weight, but he don't got no patience
Skip every State Farm commercial, I don't fuck with Jakes's

In my DM requests, it's hella A-lists
Comparing me to you, and it's clear we in two different spaces
I get paid more, you shop at Payless
You skip props and go straight to hating, you giving Bayless

Jewelry so cold but don't refrigerate it
Meeks playing ball in college, I hope my nigga make it
Her nigga slut shame her, bae come here, you can get liberated
But this just for the night, I said it twice to just reiterate it

She pull up to the spot and get obliterated, said it was exhilarating
She catching feelings, but it ain't reciprocated
World tryna simulate my situation, obsessed with all my innovation

Niggas tryna be me, doing imitations
Niggas see my style, now they wanna be a clone
I like alone time but ain't a time I need a loan
AP Skeleton, think this why she wanna bone
Girl you don't work for Apple, why you wanna see my phone?

Your one friend a rat and it's known
You can't do no drills around that nigga like a cone
Get off the plane flee, when I land(Island), get some Stone
If you don't wake up, think about some bands, what you on?

I know she wanna do me, hear it all in her tone
Get the jersey, name and number, that was all that she wrote
She fucking with the kid, I'm finna call(Karl) like Malone
I'm like, what we doing later? bae you already know

I get fly when the camera's on me like a drone
And I won't keep you on my right, if you don't tell me when I'm wrong
Beat like a throat goat, got me coming off the dome
She like, boy, your fit hard(Heart), probably cause I'm in some Chrome

She like is your dick hard? Nah, baby, this the chrome
Glock gone knock a nigga out the park, we just sent him home
Bought a sick(six) ring, like two, three, bitch I'm in the zone
Nigga this is not my net worth, this just what I'm showing

Net worth is classified, I could call it Ned
How the fuck they lock him up, and he ain't got no dreads
Nigga turned into a rat, so now I hope he dead
He snitched, now I can't bear to speak to him like Ted



Credits
Writer(s): Micah Thomas
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com

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