Lyrics Last Minute - Molly Brazy

Last Minute

Uh grew up in that rugrat era, we was bay bay’s
With the shits
Quick to hop on tip like Sha-Nay-Nay good times, JJ
Choppa behind the dryer, knowing mama do laundry
Rodney was playing with fire who snitch
You can’t say that with a serious face
You phone snatchers
Bitch my brother fought a serious case, homicide
That’s why I rock them red bottoms with spikes and drive the porsche like I’m
blind
Never stoppin at lights
Okay speaking facts i buy gucci like its dish detergent
You basic bitches still basic with a plastic surgeon
Tell my jeweler its urgent I’m about to catch a flight
So much water on me flooded like a busted pipe
The whitest bust in the city, put that on Elvis
Don’t even try to take em off me, niggas know im selfish
FN With a scope, it play peek-a-boo
I need to see a therapist cuz i can’t keep a roof
I heard that they don’t like how me and trina cool
Let these bitches tell it bro thats Trina coupe
French Vanilla no chaser fucking up the session
I put up 20 bro I’m hooping like he know i’m betting
Another win under my belt, no y’all can’t fuck with me
Give me some space, I don’t want these bitches touching me
Probably got the cooties with yo broke ass, no bag
Still wearing prada that shit so sad
Im convinced yall content and i ain’t satisfied
I blew eleven in Sax and I got back in line
Since the boys got indicted, I don’t check and grind
Cuz the feds knew too much, and they ain tap the line
Molly think she that, Molly think she this
But if it ain’t about money, Molly ain’t think it’s shit
Louis, Ferro in my hair, and it’s last minute
You know I got the juice, bitch my swag dripping
Back to back in the Forbes, me and Kash trippin
Ima bitch cuz yeen hit?
Is you mad, nigga?
You pathetic and your pockets anorexic
I could lose it all and I wouldn’t even fucking stress it
Get them haters on the line, send them boys your way
Strip em naked, we rock Louis, let him keep his J’s
How you doing?
Let that Glock .40 meet your face
You mention me, now we gon shoot til you delete your page
I can’t beef witchu, you never left the city
Ain’t ever trapping, we hit Philly just to pop some wheelies
Airplane Miami tho when the D get cold
In Dubai getting sand in my pinky toes
You bum bitch, your bag empty like your ring finger
And you a monkey so I know you not the ringleader
Tell your boss tell her boss that I’m my own boss
Molly Brazy got more rings than a phone call
Congratulations you the biggest hoe- no wait
Congratulations, you the biggest joke, you broke
I’ll spit on you, I’ll shit on you
And when I empty the clip, bitch that’s the end of you
Molly look what you made, look what you created
Clip long, temper shorter than abbreviations
Louis, Ferro in my hair, and it’s last minute
You know I got the juice, bitch my swag dripping
Trendsetter, all these hoes wanna be like me
I’m boutta start texting rats, I want my cheese
Jeweler left me in the cold, he wanna see me freeze
Bought a Cartier bracelet to complement the links
Eyes chink cuz I’m higher than a condo
Acting macho get your face blown pronto
Hoes messier than taco’s, and I can’t deal
Say whatever for a name, man the thirst real, forreal
Hurt feels, hurt kills, hurt steals
I ain’t playing, watch who you exchange words with
I confirm hits and send them pistols to your old bro’s crib