Hold On
Hey hey hey hey
Trey
Uuuhh
Yeah
I trap for my bands (huh)
Prada for the brand (yeah)
Yeah, they could never understand
How I came up
Just for the branch
Guess I had enough
Had to double up (yeah)
And I fucking switched up
She called me Dr.strange
Mm, hold on
Yeah I'm feeling so damn strange
Mm, hold on
Yeah I think it's all the fakes
Mm, hold on
Had to roll it up again
Mm, hold on
Yeah I'm smoking on them fakes
Yeah
I was swerving through the city
Damn I almost crashed (yeah)
I let that lil nigga run away
He got a pass
And I clutched it to the pedal
And the police chasing fast
Bad bitch gave me yaya in a whip
While I was smoking gas
All these niggas be so fake
They used to hate but now they dance
How'd you switch up on your brother
When you know he ain't got bands
You the type of nigga
That switch on your mandem
For some bands
You the type of nigga
That switch on everybody
You call a friend
Her phone on D&D when you calling
Boy you're not that friend (Yeah)
I'm feeling bad for her man
Cause she sees the hermes
She do the dance, dance, dance, dance
For her only fans
She wishing for bands, bands bands, bands
Yeah, she's doing her best (yeah)
Cut them all off in advance
That's a sacrifice a nigga made
To get all of these bands
Mm, hold on
Cut the fakes up to advance (yeah)
Bitch I stay solid
But my mind is always on all of these bands yeah
Yeah
I trap for my bands (huh)
Prada for the brand (yeah)
Yeah, they could never understand
How I came up just from a branch
Guess I had enough
Had to double up (yeah)
And I fucking switched up
She called me Dr. Strange
Mm, hold on
Yeah, I'm feeling so damn strange
Mm, hold on
Yeah, I think it's all the fakes
Mm, hold on
Had to roll it up again
Mm, hold on
Yeah, the smoking on them fakes
Trey
Uuuhh
Yeah
I trap for my bands (huh)
Prada for the brand (yeah)
Yeah, they could never understand
How I came up
Just for the branch
Guess I had enough
Had to double up (yeah)
And I fucking switched up
She called me Dr.strange
Mm, hold on
Yeah I'm feeling so damn strange
Mm, hold on
Yeah I think it's all the fakes
Mm, hold on
Had to roll it up again
Mm, hold on
Yeah I'm smoking on them fakes
Yeah
I was swerving through the city
Damn I almost crashed (yeah)
I let that lil nigga run away
He got a pass
And I clutched it to the pedal
And the police chasing fast
Bad bitch gave me yaya in a whip
While I was smoking gas
All these niggas be so fake
They used to hate but now they dance
How'd you switch up on your brother
When you know he ain't got bands
You the type of nigga
That switch on your mandem
For some bands
You the type of nigga
That switch on everybody
You call a friend
Her phone on D&D when you calling
Boy you're not that friend (Yeah)
I'm feeling bad for her man
Cause she sees the hermes
She do the dance, dance, dance, dance
For her only fans
She wishing for bands, bands bands, bands
Yeah, she's doing her best (yeah)
Cut them all off in advance
That's a sacrifice a nigga made
To get all of these bands
Mm, hold on
Cut the fakes up to advance (yeah)
Bitch I stay solid
But my mind is always on all of these bands yeah
Yeah
I trap for my bands (huh)
Prada for the brand (yeah)
Yeah, they could never understand
How I came up just from a branch
Guess I had enough
Had to double up (yeah)
And I fucking switched up
She called me Dr. Strange
Mm, hold on
Yeah, I'm feeling so damn strange
Mm, hold on
Yeah, I think it's all the fakes
Mm, hold on
Had to roll it up again
Mm, hold on
Yeah, the smoking on them fakes
Credits
Writer(s): Ronald Kevin Touwe Nzesseu
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com
Link
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