| I just scored a 8th so you know I gotta pour up
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| I smell like designer, your man throw like throw up
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| Put me on your song, that lil bitch gon' blow up
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| Every time I do a feature, my prices they go up
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| Hundred band jug, put 50 on my wrist
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| Take the other 50 and make that bitch flip
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| He ain’t on his job, I can take his bitch
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| That hoe got that bomb like a terrorist
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| Freshest it’s on the scene, these hoes wanna know us
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| She wanna smoke my weed, she told me to roll up
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| I said give me top, she said I need to grow up
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| Bitch I got them bands, I told her to glo up
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| Pistol on my hip, on my waist
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| Fuckboy talking shit, pistol in his face
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| These bitches say they love me, I keep a poker face
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| You say that you high but I’m in outer space
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| When I’m at the top I ain’t finna switch
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| First I cop the drop then I scoop your bitch
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| Rubberband junky, I love hitting licks
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| Keep that straight drop, your plug hit or miss
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| I pull up in foriegns, bitch your car on E
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| You ain’t got no money, but boy don’t talk to me
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| What I’m smoking on, that’s that sour D
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| You say that’s your girl, why she on top of me?
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| Rubberband gang, I keep that knot on me
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| Bitch it’s not no
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| I am not a stain, ain’t no robbing me
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| 32 shots, I keep that Glock on me
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| Purple in my cup, yeah I’m sipping lean
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| He thought he was savage til he seen that beam
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| I was on the block posted with my team
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| We was looking bummy, now we living dreams |