Tag Team (feat. Lil Tae RBC)

I got blues on me like a jazz band
Got a bag on me like a trash man
Two bitches tag-teaming like it's SummerSlam Rob Van Dan, in your hoe to the ground
Keep my eye to the sky, need a slice of the pie
And this shit, do or die, niggas dying for pride

Put them racks to the side
I got a bad bitch trying to ride
She just giving me net like a tie

She giving me neck like a tie
And that G-Star to my drip, every time I walk by
I put that shit on so she know that I'm fly
Face card gold, and they cannot deny

My foot on they neck, I don't try
Got a bad bitch trying to get drunk off the wine
Moe used to walk with that stick like he blind Told the bitch, show me that pussy on FaceTime

They wolf on the net, I heard that through the grapevine
Stuck in my thoughts I feel dark in the daytime
Been in the field and they don't even get playtime
That boy out of bounds like he stepped on the baseline
I'm back on my shit, that's a great sign

This bitch so fat, I just stay at her waistline
She just bend that ass over, I'm not trying to waste time
Ain't worried about your money, cause bitch, I'ma make mine

And that's something they knowin
I'ma fuck on that bitch, give her dick, now she glowing
Too much drip, I rain down like a storm
Got that f- on my side like a motherfucking thorn

Your bitch ride my dick like a motherfucking horn
Niggas stealing swag, I'ma hang them for treason
Niggas hating on me, I can't tell you the reason
Raf Boy Supreme, bitch, I'm lighting the beat

I don't fuck with these niggas, I know they beneath me
Lil Tae RBC, it's a blessing to meet me
Lil Tae RBC, grant a wish like a genie
Lil Tae RBC, need that head like a beanie
Big Raf Boy, run it up, niggas teeny
I be getting too high, get a flight just to see me I be getting too fly, throw it on, shit it's easy
Rubber Band Clan, bitch, my pocket's cheesy

When I shoot, I'ma score like a Michael Beasley
You gon' pay what you owe, we ain't giving no freebies
Bro got that water, ain't talking my Fiji
I'ma wake up, go get it, I don't need a genie
That P on my ball cap, not on the beanie
Imma stay out the way, get the green like Lougie

Got dark vibes, they ssay I'm acting real creepy
I'm seeing the dead like a nigga six feet deep
I'm seeing the dead got them blues in my pocket
If it's blood on the beef, then I'm never gon' squash it
Like Walmart, bet you I'm hitting my target Brick Boy, I'm the unanimous top pick
I hop in the booth and I pop shit
Got the keys to the game and I don't need a locksmith
Heard they playing my shit, got them turnt in the mosh pit
Feelin like Ralo cuz 12 never stop shit



Credits
Writer(s): Cee Mula
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com

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