Forbes
Tryna make Forbes before 2034
Kicking down doors
Why you think they call me door
Bitches come galore
Used to be at the store
Put her in Dior
Maid do all the chores
Kick it with the source
Bae what's mine is yours
Exotic connoisseur
She with me on the tours
Flick a picture of that bitch
She throwing up the fours
If I ever be a lame
My bitch gone want divorce
Dripping with the sauce
Smoke thru the exhaust
Put it on his head
No fuck about the cost
My enemies is dead
I'm tryna bury yours
The trap house wasn't vacant
They tripled up the floors
Court side at the game
I'm sitting on the floors
I took a nigga dame
I think he wanted war
I'm paying for the bodies
But back when I was poor
I was loading up the guns
I was going thru his door
I got money in my pores
That codeine what I pour
I sip it till I soar
Ain't bout money I ignore it
I'm cut throat to the core
Hit the gas the Hellcat roar
I'm in Atlanta at Allure
With ten bitches with me
One of these bitches might be yours
Urus butterfly doors
Different type of niggas
Get money be my chore
And putting niggas in the blender
Ask these bitches bout Glizzock
It ain't no nigga fuckin with em
Smoke ona dead op
Mr. Glock I just dismissed em
Tryna make Forbes before 2034
Kicking down doors
Why you think they call me door
Bitches come galore
Used to be at the store
Put her in Dior
Maid do all the chores
Kick it with the source
Bae what's mine is yours
Exotic connoisseur
She with me on the tours
Flick a picture of that bitch
She throwing up the fours
If I ever be a lame
My bitch gone want divorce
Kicking down doors
Why you think they call me door
Bitches come galore
Used to be at the store
Put her in Dior
Maid do all the chores
Kick it with the source
Bae what's mine is yours
Exotic connoisseur
She with me on the tours
Flick a picture of that bitch
She throwing up the fours
If I ever be a lame
My bitch gone want divorce
Dripping with the sauce
Smoke thru the exhaust
Put it on his head
No fuck about the cost
My enemies is dead
I'm tryna bury yours
The trap house wasn't vacant
They tripled up the floors
Court side at the game
I'm sitting on the floors
I took a nigga dame
I think he wanted war
I'm paying for the bodies
But back when I was poor
I was loading up the guns
I was going thru his door
I got money in my pores
That codeine what I pour
I sip it till I soar
Ain't bout money I ignore it
I'm cut throat to the core
Hit the gas the Hellcat roar
I'm in Atlanta at Allure
With ten bitches with me
One of these bitches might be yours
Urus butterfly doors
Different type of niggas
Get money be my chore
And putting niggas in the blender
Ask these bitches bout Glizzock
It ain't no nigga fuckin with em
Smoke ona dead op
Mr. Glock I just dismissed em
Tryna make Forbes before 2034
Kicking down doors
Why you think they call me door
Bitches come galore
Used to be at the store
Put her in Dior
Maid do all the chores
Kick it with the source
Bae what's mine is yours
Exotic connoisseur
She with me on the tours
Flick a picture of that bitch
She throwing up the fours
If I ever be a lame
My bitch gone want divorce
Credits
Writer(s): Justin Bell
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com
Link
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