Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song FWM, artist - Est GeeDate of issue: 17.12.2020
Age restrictions: 18+
Song language: English
FWM |
| Whack a nigga’s mammy, talk 'bout playing with my family |
| I sell dope just like my daddy, and still use hoes for they addys |
| Locking off these Addies, I’ma try to send 'em where my granny stay |
| On Lily May, I’ma try to put one in the dirt today |
| Broad day, make them pop out on you with the chicken plates |
| Pick a date, time or place, we gon' see you out |
| High speed on the e-way, make sure Fat Boy throw the yeeky out |
| Y’all was doing straight, hiding that hate 'til it start leaking out |
| Gas station, I’m tryna steal a J so I’m passing testers out |
| Bag waiting, go ahead and spank him if you see him out |
| Big hater, we can’t even graze him, he don’t leave his house |
| I don’t speak no lies inside my rhymes, like I got Jesus mouth |
| T-shirt came in wrinkled, I’m iron it, I’ma starch it |
| I’ma mark it and then leave some extra, make it how you want it, nigga |
| I’ma spend my whole label check buying Fendi |
| Dog food, you know that I keep that dog with me |
| Good gas, tryna spread that bag through the city |
| I’m a real street nigga, baby, fuck with me |
| Ten thousand cash for some ass and some titties |
| One thousand bags, half grams, all fifties |
| These designer drugs, so my water not dripping |
| I’m a real street nigga, baby, fuck with me (Yeah, look, uh) |
| I’ma spend my whole label check buying Louis (Yeah) |
| Boss nigga, bitch, I been flexin', ain’t nothing to it |
| I just copped the Rolls Royce and parked it in the hood |
| I got that 2018 Maybach, that bitch trimmed in wood |
| You ain’t making no noise, like my Rolls Royce |
| We be throwing shots, y’all be throwing darts |
| Bring out that GT, man, that bitch look like a lone shark |
| Bring out them VVs, make them do they homework |
| This shit here 'round my wrist, I got this off one verse |
| I ain’t no dog, but my dawg, he got Vicked, nigga, I ain’t perpin' |
| If you ain’t talkin' 'bout a meal ticket, we ain’t conversing |
| We put opp niggas into hearses, I’m so serious |
| I’ma spend my whole label check buying Fendi |
| Dog food, you know that I keep that dog with me |
| Good gas, tryna spread that bag through the city |
| I’m a real street nigga, baby, fuck with me |
| Ten thousand cash for some ass and some titties |
| One thousand bags, half grams, all fifties |
| These designer drugs, so my water not dripping |
| I’m a real street nigga, baby, fuck with me, yeah, yeah |