| Uh, yeah
|
| Yeah
|
| Yeah
|
| I just came out of the dark and we tinted the coupe
|
| Fazo‚ they called me a hooch
|
| Dive in that water‚ I’m treadin' through pain‚ it’s true
|
| A general, give me salute
|
| I was a youngin, who’d thought I’d grow into somethin'?
|
| Came out the trenches‚ it’s rugged
|
| I hit the show and the bag that I count is a dozen
|
| Ain’t talkin' money, no discussion
|
| I pour the Jean-Paul up in the Fanta, they know how we do it
|
| Everything we do exclusive
|
| Bitches be buggin'‚ a nuisance
|
| I pour the fluid, I need a deuce for the cooler
|
| Cartier cost me a grip
|
| Bought some more jet-skis, oh, what a trip
|
| Ride to Miami, a trunk full of blicks, sticks
|
| Nigga, I came with some misfits
|
| I keep it hot like a heater
|
| He came with Felicia, I ain’t even greet her, yeah
|
| Swear the ho just was a sleeper
|
| She turned to an eater, she know how I beat her, yeah
|
| I ride, two doors
|
| Check your paycheck, too low
|
| Bitch, I’m Apex, big bro
|
| He ain’t even ate yet, he poor
|
| Yeah, Ciroc, the watermelon
|
| She wanna drank soda, she ain’t ready
|
| I was just dozin' at 2 o’clock
|
| Had a gun, heard it jammin' for new spaghetti
|
| In New York with Dominicans, two machetes
|
| I just blow on the zip, lesson in the melly
|
| I ain’t fuckin' your bitches, just bring the fetti
|
| Send her home on a mission and get her ready, yeah
|
| I just came out of the dark and we tinted the coupe
|
| Fazo, they called me a hooch
|
| Dive in that water, I’m treadin' through pain, it’s true
|
| A general, give me salute
|
| I was a youngin, who’d thought I’d grow into somethin'?
|
| Came out the trenches, it’s rugged
|
| I hit the show and the bag that I count is a dozen
|
| Ain’t talkin' money, no discussion
|
| I pour the Jean-Paul up in the Fanta, they know how we do it
|
| Everything we do exclusive
|
| Bitches be buggin', a nuisance
|
| I pour the fluid, I need a deuce for the cooler
|
| Cartier cost me a grip
|
| Bought some more jet-skis, oh, what a trip
|
| Ride to Miami, a trunk full of blicks, sticks
|
| Nigga, I came with some misfits
|
| Callin' my nigga, he down the road
|
| Gotta check on him, I know it’s mad strong
|
| Put a check on a hop, get her mind gone
|
| Niggas shootin' like they wearin' blindfolds
|
| I get fetti when I got my eyes closed
|
| Know she ready, I hit, then she ride home
|
| Fingers itchin', I just kept the grind on
|
| We gon' burn him, we just cut the nine on
|
| I just came out of the dark and we tinted the coupe
|
| Fazo, they called me a hooch
|
| Dive in that water, I’m treadin' through pain, it’s true
|
| A general, give me salute
|
| I was a youngin, who’d thought I’d grow into somethin'?
|
| Came out the trenches, it’s rugged
|
| I hit the show and the bag that I count is a dozen
|
| Ain’t talkin' money, no discussion
|
| I pour the Jean-Paul up in the Fanta, they know how we do it
|
| Everything we do exclusive
|
| Bitches be buggin', a nuisance
|
| I pour the fluid, I need a deuce for the cooler
|
| Cartier cost me a grip
|
| Bought some more jet-skis, oh, what a trip
|
| Ride to Miami, a trunk full of blicks, sticks
|
| Nigga, I came with some misfits |