How It Sound (feat. Smoola)

Let her ball ball Pick pick her up
Let her ball ball Pick pick her up
Let her ball ball drop her off
I get cash You get cash

Not at all
Once I spend a little I Pipe in the rental new ice
From the dental whip right Till it sizzle 2-5
To a nickel 4-5 From the missile blow pipes

Like a whistle I thrive with the with a pistol I
Pick her up Let her ball
Drop her off I get cash
You get cash Not at all

Louis bags Gucci bags
And they full of cash Why you mad
Do the dash Bitch I'm in my bag
Fast cash Big bank back back

Like a hashtag I get bags back
100s Make my pants sag Get your ass dragged
Throw that ass back Or get your bags packed
I like when a nigga think he on somethin

Knowing honestly that he don't wanna blow nothin
I'm chillin' outside with a 4-5 Me and four guys coyotes but we road running
I was uphill top it ain't no runnin
Less its to a lick whip then the folks comin

Smoola probably turn a half to a brick
If the dope really hittin' and that nigga think he know somethin
Hope that she a freaky bitch and she show somethin
I'ma guess she on that tip make her roll somethin

She probably think I wanna hit she don't know nothin
Bitch you don't owe me I don't want nothin
Once I ran with Hood Rich know the bag came
But I ran with the bands as my last name

You can run and tell your man when I'm hoppin' out van
See I'm mad and the nigga got mad aim
Think I probably shed a tear when that pack came
But we was done' grieving when the racks came

We was fucked up it was HAHA
Now im pitching at yo hoe like the bat cage
New whip like it came out the bat cave
Bad bitch big booty make her back break

Backstage bend it over make the hoe
Eat us all like we found the lil' hole on the back page
That's how it sound in the coupe
No keys and no roof

Get the pack and go poof
I'm hotter than some fuckin' soup
Blow me down baby just to keep me cool
My money new like a new born nigga

You thought I was Jew
Pop pop pop pop pop pop pop pew
Shells from the deuce
I don't really care who you are nigga

I'm tryna get blues
They turn one into two
All I add up is food
I know I look greedy I know

Mak a fool
He puttin' in work aint in no school
We dripping' too hard with this loot
That's how it sound in the coupe

No keys and no roof
Get the pack and go poof
I'm hotter than some fuckin' soup
Blow me down baby just to keep me cool

My money new like a new born nigga
You thought I was Jew
Fast cash
Big bank bag pack

Like a hashtag
I get bags back
100s Make my pants sag
Get your ass dragged

Throw that ass back
Or get your bags packed



Credits
Writer(s): Makyrie Barnes, Yahshua Yehudah
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com

Link