Lyrics Swing My Door - Yung Stakks, G Herbo

Swing My Door

It ain’t my fault you broke
But its prolly my fault ya bitch telling you no
Do she think she my bitch prolly I don’t even know
Lil bitch for everybody she done turned to a hoe bitch
Like Gucci bitch swing my doe
If they got them for the high ima sell the for the low
They was barely gettin by tricking off on them hoes
I was bossed up in the cut checking roll
Serving that pack give and go
1st 48 wipe his nose
Busted a few heads up the road
I got some quality lows
Exotic pack go for the 4
I gotta keep me a pole
Use to heat up th crib with the stove
Me & Wop us to sleep on the floor
Early morning up trafficking zones
Selling kds off the phone
My mama knew what I was on
I had to get us some dough
Cuz all my damn life I was broke
They sent shots but yeah we up the score
Reup ever week at the store
Work my wrist turnt a two to a four
Pull up real fast like Batman man nigga
Yung got on two watches they like that man ignorant
Pull up in a demon but my shoes they some Christians
Amiri my jeans this ain’t h&m denim
Pulling up deep like we came in a sprinter
See u in traffic send shots at yo window
And I’m owning these cars I’m too old for a rental
I triple the boxes that’s just how I send them
Bout 8 to 10 cases be gone in a jiffy
I widing the body
Gwag with the lift kit
Limo the tint so my dick she gone kiss it
Couple shots of tequila got her finna risk it
But she can’t resist cuz my neck n my wrist lit
Youngest lil nigga that’s popping that big shit
Niggas to old to be hating how i kick it
Niggas still be going out bad bout these bitch
It ain’t my fault you broke
But its prolly my fault ya bitch telling you no
Do she think she my bitch prolly I don’t even know
Lil bitch for everybody she done turned to a hoe bitch
Like Gucci bitch swing my doe
If they got them for the high ima sell the for the low
They was barely gettin by tricking off on them hoes
I was bossed up in the cut checking roll
Rocking Louie feel like Gucci when I swang my door aye
Ain’t did no shows
But I’m in a Rolls and I’m rocking rose gold
Gang we still havin lows and exotic bows
We gone sell them hoes whole
None but a hundred pack if it ain’t that get ya money back
Sike fuck nigga I know you loving that
All sales final aye
I’m vintage like Vinyl aye aye
I’m rich call me Lionel
He tried to run from the FN them bitches went right through his spinal
I don’t be feeling entitled but all of my whips got a title
And I don’t fake kick it with niggas so I make it clear I don’t like you
Big GHerbo twelves on the whips no turbo
I don’t know if Cali gone work though
All winter tryna where fur coats aye aye
I’m rocking drip out of Bergdorf
I’m on the block with my shirt off
Hop in a Lamb and skirt off
Ain’t shit I spam or murk off
I’m getting too rich for this life
Homie a bitch he wouldn’t meant for this life
Sometimes I almost get sick of this life
But it I’m trippin I’m living alive
Niggas be hating they living with strife
Youngin too savage they living it trife
Pistol ain’t near me get hit with these knife
Breathe and he twitch and get hit with it twice
1st 48 wipe his nose
Busted a few heads up the road
I got sum quality lows
Exotic pack go for the 4
Use to heat up the crib with the stove
I gotta keep me a pole