Open Invitation Interlude
Said I just dipped from the west side Moved through the Melpomene, lookin' for a hot girl
Red hot pepper thing, fucked around and found one baddest thing I ever seen
Ketchup, hot sauce, I put that on everything Last nigga fucked up me, I'm tryna make it right
Really tryna see if you can fuck the way you shakin' like
Call her top five, then you're not wrong Get her to the crib, tryna jam it like a hot song
Plain white T-shirt, Emline socks on Don't feel right if I don't got the glock on
Come, come to money, bitch, I'm straighter than a hot comb
Your bitch, I wouldn't hit her, she a flipper like a pop phone
Money on my brain cells, your bitch on my main cell
You would swear to God she in love, but I can't tell
Like the Zulu Parade, I got bands, nigga And bitches tryna pull up on me like pants, nigga
I heard lil' homie, got smashed by his people, though
She only bad, got no bag, you can keep that ho
Niggas mad fake grilling aluminum foil me
And suckas don't mix like water and oil
I got 99 problems and a bitch ain't one
98, cause bitch niggas never one either
Come around, bucking get swat like a mosquito
Sex trash, but head on point like Vegeta
Girl, if you a eater, then hit my line
They try to rush me to drop, but I took my time
Baby girl gave the drop, homie took his .9
But whoady took his life, cause whoady took his iron
I'm the underdog, baby, the bets is all against me
Took lemons and made lemonade, this shit simply
Bunch of corns with bread, niggas is Jiffy
A open invitation for the spiffy, and that's why we here
Red hot pepper thing, fucked around and found one baddest thing I ever seen
Ketchup, hot sauce, I put that on everything Last nigga fucked up me, I'm tryna make it right
Really tryna see if you can fuck the way you shakin' like
Call her top five, then you're not wrong Get her to the crib, tryna jam it like a hot song
Plain white T-shirt, Emline socks on Don't feel right if I don't got the glock on
Come, come to money, bitch, I'm straighter than a hot comb
Your bitch, I wouldn't hit her, she a flipper like a pop phone
Money on my brain cells, your bitch on my main cell
You would swear to God she in love, but I can't tell
Like the Zulu Parade, I got bands, nigga And bitches tryna pull up on me like pants, nigga
I heard lil' homie, got smashed by his people, though
She only bad, got no bag, you can keep that ho
Niggas mad fake grilling aluminum foil me
And suckas don't mix like water and oil
I got 99 problems and a bitch ain't one
98, cause bitch niggas never one either
Come around, bucking get swat like a mosquito
Sex trash, but head on point like Vegeta
Girl, if you a eater, then hit my line
They try to rush me to drop, but I took my time
Baby girl gave the drop, homie took his .9
But whoady took his life, cause whoady took his iron
I'm the underdog, baby, the bets is all against me
Took lemons and made lemonade, this shit simply
Bunch of corns with bread, niggas is Jiffy
A open invitation for the spiffy, and that's why we here
Credits
Writer(s): Aaron Kennedy
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com
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