Off Top (feat. SOB Kamm)
Damn glizz that hard
Cmon
Shh plug the vacuum seals up turn the stoves on its gelato in this bitch nigga
Come on
Antisocial told my bitch to change the topic
Drop that toppy
Ain't no love for no thottie
Baby girl we just vibin we just vibin
Young boss stack that cheddar till I'm rotten
Sc nigga keep them squares whiter than cotton
Come on
Heard they plotting on a nigga
I ain't gotta send no blitz
Them fmj's hit no hit sticks
Came up as a misfit
Crying bout that bitch all she came to do is eat dick
Cut that lean with that carol before I ever made a remix
I wish a nigga sneak diss
I'll sit a million days before I ever turn witness
Yeah I gave up on that boy but you can call me for that whitney
Sixteen hundred on that moncler nigga we play in true religion
Give a fuck about designer she gone fuck me in these dickies
Been a demon to them blues before I ever heard of trap
All I know is get them bitches cross the map
Met a fan he love my music
All he said I spit was facts
Nigga all this shit was valid before I ever heard a no cap
One time for my nigga lo jack
Stuck up on that corner all he know is serve that trax
Wear my pain on my shoulders I ain't never need no tats
Yeah he say he want that real one dog you know I got to tax
Come on dawg you know I got to tax
Ain't no sense in all that talking bitch I'ma hit it from the back
Once I'm done nigga I'm right back to that trap
Got some shottas shake they dreads and off your ass just like mad maxx
Seen my main nigga turn bitch
No I can't forget that
Tunnel vision to that cheddar
Ain't no time for that chit chat
Dog that shit was weak
No I cannot collab
I was selling ounces aint do well on my asvab
Nigga
Come on
Border gang
Come on
Phone booming dope moving
I need a fucking brick
Road running younging want that money now he on a lick
Make it out without the stove running how you do that shit
Why you sweating like you stole something
Bitch I sell fent
Crackers told me plea and take the eight but I ain't tell shit
Hitting 120 on the e way racing to that chip
Murder one we with it by the time he up it I was hitting
Riding with it gotta keep that fire
I'm a felon but before they score I'ma take the five
Real street nigga donda give the ok nigga die
Free lil seven for devo and slime
Motherfuck your hood free my hood
Till they free that how I'm riding
We get money but we ain't ducking slanging iron
I be in my feelings late night
I be thinking bout a guys
Reminiscing wishing I could hit rewind
Know what I'm saying
Cmon
Shh plug the vacuum seals up turn the stoves on its gelato in this bitch nigga
Come on
Antisocial told my bitch to change the topic
Drop that toppy
Ain't no love for no thottie
Baby girl we just vibin we just vibin
Young boss stack that cheddar till I'm rotten
Sc nigga keep them squares whiter than cotton
Come on
Heard they plotting on a nigga
I ain't gotta send no blitz
Them fmj's hit no hit sticks
Came up as a misfit
Crying bout that bitch all she came to do is eat dick
Cut that lean with that carol before I ever made a remix
I wish a nigga sneak diss
I'll sit a million days before I ever turn witness
Yeah I gave up on that boy but you can call me for that whitney
Sixteen hundred on that moncler nigga we play in true religion
Give a fuck about designer she gone fuck me in these dickies
Been a demon to them blues before I ever heard of trap
All I know is get them bitches cross the map
Met a fan he love my music
All he said I spit was facts
Nigga all this shit was valid before I ever heard a no cap
One time for my nigga lo jack
Stuck up on that corner all he know is serve that trax
Wear my pain on my shoulders I ain't never need no tats
Yeah he say he want that real one dog you know I got to tax
Come on dawg you know I got to tax
Ain't no sense in all that talking bitch I'ma hit it from the back
Once I'm done nigga I'm right back to that trap
Got some shottas shake they dreads and off your ass just like mad maxx
Seen my main nigga turn bitch
No I can't forget that
Tunnel vision to that cheddar
Ain't no time for that chit chat
Dog that shit was weak
No I cannot collab
I was selling ounces aint do well on my asvab
Nigga
Come on
Border gang
Come on
Phone booming dope moving
I need a fucking brick
Road running younging want that money now he on a lick
Make it out without the stove running how you do that shit
Why you sweating like you stole something
Bitch I sell fent
Crackers told me plea and take the eight but I ain't tell shit
Hitting 120 on the e way racing to that chip
Murder one we with it by the time he up it I was hitting
Riding with it gotta keep that fire
I'm a felon but before they score I'ma take the five
Real street nigga donda give the ok nigga die
Free lil seven for devo and slime
Motherfuck your hood free my hood
Till they free that how I'm riding
We get money but we ain't ducking slanging iron
I be in my feelings late night
I be thinking bout a guys
Reminiscing wishing I could hit rewind
Know what I'm saying
Credits
Writer(s): Dallas Waiters
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com
Link
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