Missed Calls
I got two many missed calls
Phone blowin' up, numbers runnin' up
Get that bag and run it up
Bitch, I'm O.T., what you know about me
You don't even know enough, started with a O.Z
Next thing I know, I was four numbers up
A lot of niggas owe me, I've been runnin' a race
Y'all can't even keep up, I look like I grow weed
Y'all niggas smokin' that backyard, huh
Bitch, you niggas cotton soft
You niggas flexin' and fallin' off
Long Johnson, that I gave to your bitch with the red bottoms off the alcohol
I'm just wakin' up
Phone always ringin', feel like I ain't made enough
Thumbing through so many hunnids, this shit give me paper cuts
If it ain't bout no money, nigga, then you can't hit me up, uh
And fuck them corny bitches that's tryin' to hang with us
Broke bitch, you ain't got no bag, you a freeloader, you be lame as fuck
I always keep a bad, bitch, she be trained' to go, she be trained' to fuck
She be eatin' up all of my kids, I put these racks on her head
A lot of these niggas be snitchin' and talkin' to cops
Swear to God, y'all be fed, I ain't never posted up on these niggas' blocks
I be out gettin' bread
I don't never speak on shit that I ain't got
I just go get it instead, a lot of you niggas ain't smokin' on ZA
I, all of that shit, it be mid
I got too many missed calls
Phone blowin' up, numbers runnin' up
Get that bag and run it up
Bitch, I'm OT, what you know about me? You don't even know enough
Started with a OZ, next thing I know, I was four numbers up
A lot of niggas owe me, I been runnin' a race, y'all can't even keep up
I look like I grow weed, y'all niggas smokin' that backyard, huh
Bitch, you niggas cotton soft, you niggas flexin' and fallin' off
Long Johnson, that I gave it to your bitch with the red bottoms off the alcohol
I'ma reach some heights, but I will not fall
I be high as kites, smokin' ZA all night
I be in the car, swervin' left and right
I won't drop the ball, cause I feel like Mike
I'ma shoot my shot, I'ma score alright
I'ma hustle hard, I'ma be all night, I'ma be alright
Niggas be folding' on the people that made them, that shit ain't right
I'ma grind all night, I got a appetite
People tellin' me that I ain't livin' right
But I can show you more than you made in life
I'ma get a bag, and I'ma get it right
Ain't the only jewelry that I wear is white
Y'all be cappin' hard, y'all need to get a life
Y'all be hatin' hard, man, that shit ain't right
Y'all be Hatin hard man that shit aint right, go get you some mothafucking paper nigga
I was only motivated by the hustle
I was only motivated by the go-getters, the rest
Hey
All I know
Let's go get some motherfuckin' money
Aight
Yeah, yeah
Yeah, yeah
Bitch
Phone blowin' up, numbers runnin' up
Get that bag and run it up
Bitch, I'm O.T., what you know about me
You don't even know enough, started with a O.Z
Next thing I know, I was four numbers up
A lot of niggas owe me, I've been runnin' a race
Y'all can't even keep up, I look like I grow weed
Y'all niggas smokin' that backyard, huh
Bitch, you niggas cotton soft
You niggas flexin' and fallin' off
Long Johnson, that I gave to your bitch with the red bottoms off the alcohol
I'm just wakin' up
Phone always ringin', feel like I ain't made enough
Thumbing through so many hunnids, this shit give me paper cuts
If it ain't bout no money, nigga, then you can't hit me up, uh
And fuck them corny bitches that's tryin' to hang with us
Broke bitch, you ain't got no bag, you a freeloader, you be lame as fuck
I always keep a bad, bitch, she be trained' to go, she be trained' to fuck
She be eatin' up all of my kids, I put these racks on her head
A lot of these niggas be snitchin' and talkin' to cops
Swear to God, y'all be fed, I ain't never posted up on these niggas' blocks
I be out gettin' bread
I don't never speak on shit that I ain't got
I just go get it instead, a lot of you niggas ain't smokin' on ZA
I, all of that shit, it be mid
I got too many missed calls
Phone blowin' up, numbers runnin' up
Get that bag and run it up
Bitch, I'm OT, what you know about me? You don't even know enough
Started with a OZ, next thing I know, I was four numbers up
A lot of niggas owe me, I been runnin' a race, y'all can't even keep up
I look like I grow weed, y'all niggas smokin' that backyard, huh
Bitch, you niggas cotton soft, you niggas flexin' and fallin' off
Long Johnson, that I gave it to your bitch with the red bottoms off the alcohol
I'ma reach some heights, but I will not fall
I be high as kites, smokin' ZA all night
I be in the car, swervin' left and right
I won't drop the ball, cause I feel like Mike
I'ma shoot my shot, I'ma score alright
I'ma hustle hard, I'ma be all night, I'ma be alright
Niggas be folding' on the people that made them, that shit ain't right
I'ma grind all night, I got a appetite
People tellin' me that I ain't livin' right
But I can show you more than you made in life
I'ma get a bag, and I'ma get it right
Ain't the only jewelry that I wear is white
Y'all be cappin' hard, y'all need to get a life
Y'all be hatin' hard, man, that shit ain't right
Y'all be Hatin hard man that shit aint right, go get you some mothafucking paper nigga
I was only motivated by the hustle
I was only motivated by the go-getters, the rest
Hey
All I know
Let's go get some motherfuckin' money
Aight
Yeah, yeah
Yeah, yeah
Bitch
Credits
Writer(s): Gerald Parker Jr
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com
Link
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