Hoes they be watching us
They pull out binoculars
Can't measure my dick lil bitch it's prolly a kilometer
Bitch I'm bouta T-up no more L's dawg I'm going insane
Cause oh, they be talkin' down throwin salt on my name
I was young, I was throwed, I was wired than a bitch
I was standing right outside, teary eyed wit a brick
Gold condom in my wallet case I had to bag a bitch
Only here fo' the money ain't no small talk and shit
Aw yeah coming down gotta flex
Man hol' up
Aw yeah coming down
Gotta flex, gotta clown
For the Tex, for the town
Wana plex, f*ck around
Get you hit, get you split
Get you ate up by them dogs
Turn em into puppy chow, hang his feet over the wall
Aw naw hell naw
Man hold up, yeah pause
Wreckin way too damn hard, you a hoe, you a fraud
You don't wana f*ck wit me, pause get up off my meat
Hit em wit some cold steel, hit em wit some summer heat
DRIPFOOYUNG - BACK IN 06' Lyrics
DRIPFOOYUNG - BACK IN 06' Lyrics
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Hoes they be watching us
They pull out binoculars
Can't measure my dick lil bitch it's prolly a kilometer
Bitch I'm bouta T-up no more L's dawg I'm going insane
Cause oh, they be talkin' down throwin salt on my name
I was young, I was throwed, I was wired than a bitch
I was standing right outside, teary eyed wit a brick
Gold condom in my wallet case I had to bag a bitch
Only here fo' the money ain't no small talk and shit
Aw yeah coming down gotta flex
Man hol' up
Aw yeah coming down
Gotta flex, gotta clown
For the Tex, for the town
Wana plex, f*ck around
Get you hit, get you split
Get you ate up by them dogs
Turn em into puppy chow, hang his feet over the wall
Aw naw hell naw
Man hold up, yeah pause
Wreckin way too damn hard, you a hoe, you a fraud
You don't wana f*ck wit me, pause get up off my meat
Hit em wit some cold steel, hit em wit some summer heat
They pull out binoculars
Can't measure my dick lil bitch it's prolly a kilometer
Bitch I'm bouta T-up no more L's dawg I'm going insane
Cause oh, they be talkin' down throwin salt on my name
I was young, I was throwed, I was wired than a bitch
I was standing right outside, teary eyed wit a brick
Gold condom in my wallet case I had to bag a bitch
Only here fo' the money ain't no small talk and shit
Aw yeah coming down gotta flex
Man hol' up
Aw yeah coming down
Gotta flex, gotta clown
For the Tex, for the town
Wana plex, f*ck around
Get you hit, get you split
Get you ate up by them dogs
Turn em into puppy chow, hang his feet over the wall
Aw naw hell naw
Man hold up, yeah pause
Wreckin way too damn hard, you a hoe, you a fraud
You don't wana f*ck wit me, pause get up off my meat
Hit em wit some cold steel, hit em wit some summer heat
Writer: Stevenson Davis Jr.
Copyright: Lyrics © O/B/O DistroKid
Copyright: Lyrics © O/B/O DistroKid