Rumors

Uh-uh, bitch
Uh-uh, that's Kent. Don't fuck with Kent
He gon' try to fuck, like, four or five of your friends
Uh-uh, he like that Molly shit, that
Bootarette

You aint never see him on the Instagram
Bootarette, Bootarettet, Bootarette
Uh-uh, don't fuck with that nigga, girl
I even heard

He don't take care of his kids
He backed all his friends
He's a wild one
Don't let all that fake good man shit fool you

He's a wild one
Uh-uh, don't fuck with Kent
Matter fact im bout to send his ass ona dockett right now
Hol up girl

I think it's time I address these rumors
Cause they tell my story all wrong
They kept thinking that I was a crackhead
I tricked them all along
I found a way to promote my work
And I did that shit through song
Mission accomplished
I went viral
Now out of towners is calling my phone

Tell Marshae that shit ain't working
I'ma get kaci back for certain
Her whole team full of broke ass bitches
They all washed up like detergent
Doing little weird shit for no purpose
Well, I'ma act all on purpose
They gon' close the goddamn curtains
They gon' close, close, close

We could talk about that havoc
How a real nigga ain't panic
Niggas came around there bagging
I was front line with that hammer
We was right there by them poles
This was up top glass manor
I even did that shit on camera
So I cut my dreads then vanished

On A-Rod, that's not my bitch
I don't give a fuck what she do
I fucked her on the first date
I know that you could do that shit too

I touch bitches like a masseuse
And my pocket still on Bruce Bruce
I get off the Remy like papoose
And leave them looking like Ragu

What's the rumor that I'm broke
Nigga, I sell more than I smoke
I call Tati for that half
And I call Paco for a whole
If I buy one brick, he gon' throw me one
That's the type of shit that I'm on
I will pull the nigga all in his place
Now I'm looking like a landlord

Y'all know who the fuck I am
On A-Rod, I keep that blam
I ain't posting guns on the gram
That's the quickest way to get jammed

Come pull up, you think that I'm playing
All bald heads like kazaam
They keep saying my name like damn
Till they get a buckshot like Pam

Bitch, don't put me on the docket
You ain't got no cash in your pocket
All on fake page telling stories
Knowing damn well that I'm solid
I be suited like Obama
I used to love her like common
Now I'm really all out of options
I'm gon' sell boot and make profit

I grew up, up under that church
I went to service each and every Sunday
I even paid attention in Bible study
Thou said go and get some money
But my father side real crummy
It seem like erybody a junkie
And these niggas gay with no money
And these niggas, niggas, niggas

Bitch, don't unsend no message
I already seen that you was begging
You done took a couple of seconds
I done screenshotted that message
I be in the trap forever
Ain't no 9 to 5 my preference
I got clientele wherever
I be blessing shit like a Reverend or Kingsley, nigga
Uh-uh, bitch

Did you hear that nigga lean on me remix
On there fucking, them girls like that
Talk about some damn cream on me
Man, that boy crazy as hell

O.M.G



Credits
Writer(s): Bob Molly
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com

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