| Bitch, yeah, ayy, bitch
|
| Is that Shoki on the beat?
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| I just left London, I just left London
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| Ayy, yeah (Bitch), ayy, ooh (Yeah)
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| I just left London, I’m money thumbin'
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| Dover Street, twenty bands like it’s nothin'
|
| .38 to the gut made 'em vomit
|
| Sorry lil' nigga, you had this shit comin'
|
| Catch up with him, that’s the end of discussion
|
| He got strawberry guts, he burst like a Gusher
|
| Niggas want beef, I got ketchup and mustard
|
| Pull up on him, shoot a shot at his sweatshirt
|
| I just left London, I’m money thumbin'
|
| Dover Street, twenty bands like it’s nothin'
|
| .38 to the gut made 'em vomit
|
| Sorry lil' nigga, you had this shit comin'
|
| Catch up with him, that’s the end of discussion
|
| He got strawberry guts, he burst like a Gusher
|
| Niggas want beef, I got ketchup and mustard
|
| Pull up on him, shoot a shot at his sweatshirt
|
| The whole damn gang, dumb, dumb, and dumbass
|
| Pull up on them and I’m letting the gun blast
|
| I got like forty-five left in this Glock
|
| This is my mop and it hold fifty shots
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| I took that Lambo' right off of the lot
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| And did the dash, I had to run from the cops
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| Double the cup then I’m pourin' the drop
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| And drink it fast, bitch, I be sippin' a lot
|
| Put fifty-thousand dollars on a watch
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| And spent the bag just to look down at this clock
|
| Watch me turn up on these niggas
|
| Got 'em mad, now they wishin' a nigga would stop
|
| When I run down on a nigga
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| I do him bad, yeah I knock his ass right out his socks
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| Don’t try to clown me, lil' nigga
|
| You wasting your time and I wish that you niggas would stop
|
| I just left London, I’m money thumbin'
|
| Dover Street, twenty bands like it’s nothin'
|
| .38 to the gut made 'em vomit
|
| Sorry lil' nigga, you had this shit comin'
|
| Catch up with him, that’s the end of discussion
|
| He got strawberry guts and burst like a Gusher
|
| Niggas want beef, I got ketchup and mustard
|
| Pull up on him, shoot a shot at his sweatshirt
|
| I just left London, I’m money thumbin'
|
| Dover Street, twenty bands like it’s nothin'
|
| .38 to the gut made 'em vomit
|
| Sorry lil' nigga, you had this shit comin'
|
| Catch up with him, that’s the end of discussion
|
| He got strawberry guts and burst like a Gusher
|
| Niggas want beef, I got ketchup and mustard
|
| Pull up on him, shoot a shot at his sweatshirt |