Extras

Im making plays not excuses
Twenty-Four inch Daytons on a Lac these ain't deuces
Smelling like Baccarat fresh as fuck and your bitch choosing
I woke up and chose violence
Never been in me to tell on a soul
I stick to the code I chose silence
I'm really one of them one's mandatory keep it player at all times
Chunk up the five STL fitted they know I'm pushing a cold line
Your baby daddy be gettin that tax put on
He he need to come spend with me
But to be honest that nigga just in the way baby
You need to get in with me
Pouring grit like it's going out of style
Pint of Tris cost a pretty penny
They like is it anymore where that came from
And I replied I got plenty
I'm the biggest shit popper breaking they ass off something proper
I'm out the way but still in the loop kicking up dust in Balenciagas
True
This shit ain't sweet this shit right here sugar free
I'm a geek just like every nigga next to me
I'm so special
I'm her specialty
And everybody's high especially me
Yeah my pack explodes
I'm a star at da bar watch a stack unfold
Nigga G.E.T.M.O.N.E.Y
I been getting money since your mommy went to Lee High
Today was straight though I made a lot
Yeah I scraped extras from the pot
Don't be acting extra bitch my name worth a lot
I'm hot on the internet I'm not on the block
She not really into that she just like to shop
And I'm not really into her I just want the top
Wrist jerking perc serving work swerver rack earning
Pack turning Lac turner ain't no limit I'm a colonel
Microwaver pot scraper
Stove topper kind of clumsy
Out the cabinet glass dropper
Told that nigga I ain't fuck his bitch we was just playin doctor
She said she ain't scared of heights she wanna ride the helicopter
I'm a fish fryer fish fire
Sometimes I wanna retire but they keep buying
My bitch got that lil skin tone might think she's Hawaiian
That boy ain't got no ceiling on him how he keep flying
Opposition making dumb decisions yeah they keep dying
They said I couldn't make it happen bitch be quiet
I pay what I weigh not a penny more
These racks just for play I got plenty more
Pull up in that ooh and walk in the door
Set that bitch ha we all the smoke
I pay what I weigh not a penny more
These racks just for play I got plenty more
Pull up in that ooh and walk in the door
Set that bitch ha we all the smoke



Credits
Writer(s): Alphonso Mcguire, James Hunter, Jonathan Mitchell, Michael Emerson
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com

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