Lyrics Could've Bought - LUD FOE

Could've Bought

Kid Wond3r, you made this beat?
Damn
Aye, No Hooks Part 2 in this bitch, you know how I’m rockin', nigga
Get your guns up, get your funds up
You on that opp shit, get mop sticked, bitch
Salad gang, catch a body gang
Aye
I could’ve bought a Bentley, but instead I bought a cuban link
Told my jeweler fill it up with ice like a skating rink
Red bottoms cost $ 1500, bitch, I’m stunting
And I’m feeling my Gucci cleats, watch me punt it
Could’ve bought a mansion, but instead I bought a drop top
If she ain’t tryna fuck, I kick her out and make her toe pop
I’m standing at the stove, I’m whippin', tryna make this dope lock
My new car European, but I can turn into robot
We ridin', lookin' for the opps and duckin' the cops
Ridin' dirty, Glizzy Glocks with multiple shots
I pulled up to the parking lot, convertible drop
And then I leave the strip club with multiple thots
I buy the bar, drown the hoes with multiple shots
I’m gettin' dough, these niggas broke
That’s all that you got?
She hit the thrax, damn near had a real asthma attack
We hit the club, VIP, we in back of the back
I heard this nigga talking smack, get hit with that MAC
I fucked that bitch from the back, then I’m givin' her back
We turn your homie into a pack, ain’t no bringin' him back
These Gucci sneakers cost a stack, didn’t mention the tax
Why these niggas envy?
Bitches, I fuck plenty
Riding hemi, and I got my semi
Rollin' hard, I think I popped too many
I keep killers with me, G Unit, my MAC clip hold a 50
Riding S550's, high speed, tell the police get up with me
I remember trappin' out abandoned apartments
Do a hit then I reload my cartridge
Smokin' stank, smell like somebody farted
Kickin' bitches out this Aston Martin
These choppers poppin' like we fryin' bacon
Smokin' reefer like a young Jamaican
I done got your blood on my Margiela Masons
These bullets hit you, split you, leave you shakin'
I brought my sack up in the club, let’s get it crackin'
We don’t need security, we pistol packin'
Left that boy up on the curb 'cause he was lackin'
If a nigga want a verse, you know I’m taxin'
Pussy boy you actin', you ain’t 'bout that action
We catch you in traffic with them ratchets
And turn up our savage, we gon' let you have it
Check out my chain it cost me some change, dare you try to snatch it
The bullet holes so big, I put in your body, doctors couldn’t patch it
Bitch, I’m laughin' to the bank, I got the biggest smirk
Sorry if I fucked your friend, baby, I’m the biggest flirt
RIP, we gon' put your face on a college shirt
Step to me, nigga, you must want to get your feelings hurt
Who you be, nigga?
YSN, that 290 shit
Do you see niggas?
Hell nah, I’m on my zombie shit
Boy if you don’t duck, you fucked
Knock your head off your shoulders
I told her to suck and she did what I told her
You think we playin', hop up out that van, we might spray your mans
Choppa run, should’ve pulled up his pants, he didn’t stand a chance
Jewelry skatin' like my chain wear Vans, watch my diamonds dance
If you want beef, we gon' put that shit in a fryin' pan
Baby, I got bands up in my Trues, Christian Loubs
Bitch, I spend 2 bands for these nice shoes, breaking rules
Bitch, I was the man up in high school
Starting selling dope, I didn’t stand a chance up in high school
We kick your door, bitch get on the floor
Nigga, where that dough?
If you know
Better let me know, or else I’ma blow
The opps ain’t on shit, they some hoes, go look at the score
We been trappin' that snow, sellin' blow by the corner store
Gang
Gang, gang, gang