How you do not got a pole you must be new to this shit
Ion throw up no flag I just be doing my shit
You don't got no bag you don't be moving yo shit
You'd think it gave me jet lag the way I flew thru the bitch
Yeah that might be yo hoe I'm still gon hit it up
Hoe there's a ringing on my phone am I gon pick it up
Now there's a knocking at my door am I gon lift it up
Thats just the fiends coming for more they know I'll get em sum
I just stacked me up some cash in this duffel bag
These bitches always trippin must be off a truffle bag
I'm stacking golden digits you ain't made enough of that
I rock and roll with fishes ion whip up nun but crack
I got white bitch and white hoes tryna get it
Why you capping bout the bread when I can go and ask the city
Know the dope getting to they head that's why I whip spaghetti
They won't buy from nowhere else cause all the mix hit with confetti
It ain't mine it must be yours
Smoke a dime be on the floor
They get one punch of these and they'll be flying back fosho
Now they waiting at the door
Fiends keep calling for more
Imma have to get it to em cause they know that's what I'm for
Hunnids in my pocket but I'm prolly with ya hoe
Out here counting dough but all I ever want is more
Pick them jeans up all I ever want is throat
Hunnids in my pockets cause it's hunnids that what made me
I'd love to sit and talk but I got mixes in the making
Ain't talking bout a bitch but I love seeing different faces
They said I ain't come round in a while well shit changes
That's just how it go
Swear I seen my left man turn into a hoe
And I seen my right hand turn into a soul
This shit gon come with life man you better learn to cope
How you do not got a pole you must be new to this shit
Ion throw up no flag I just be doing my shit
You don't got no bag you don't be moving yo shit
You'd think it gave me jet lag the way I flew thru the bitch
FilthyDan - Confetti Lyrics
FilthyDan - Confetti Lyrics
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How you do not got a pole you must be new to this shit
Ion throw up no flag I just be doing my shit
You don't got no bag you don't be moving yo shit
You'd think it gave me jet lag the way I flew thru the bitch
Yeah that might be yo hoe I'm still gon hit it up
Hoe there's a ringing on my phone am I gon pick it up
Now there's a knocking at my door am I gon lift it up
Thats just the fiends coming for more they know I'll get em sum
I just stacked me up some cash in this duffel bag
These bitches always trippin must be off a truffle bag
I'm stacking golden digits you ain't made enough of that
I rock and roll with fishes ion whip up nun but crack
I got white bitch and white hoes tryna get it
Why you capping bout the bread when I can go and ask the city
Know the dope getting to they head that's why I whip spaghetti
They won't buy from nowhere else cause all the mix hit with confetti
It ain't mine it must be yours
Smoke a dime be on the floor
They get one punch of these and they'll be flying back fosho
Now they waiting at the door
Fiends keep calling for more
Imma have to get it to em cause they know that's what I'm for
Hunnids in my pocket but I'm prolly with ya hoe
Out here counting dough but all I ever want is more
Pick them jeans up all I ever want is throat
Hunnids in my pockets cause it's hunnids that what made me
I'd love to sit and talk but I got mixes in the making
Ain't talking bout a bitch but I love seeing different faces
They said I ain't come round in a while well shit changes
That's just how it go
Swear I seen my left man turn into a hoe
And I seen my right hand turn into a soul
This shit gon come with life man you better learn to cope
How you do not got a pole you must be new to this shit
Ion throw up no flag I just be doing my shit
You don't got no bag you don't be moving yo shit
You'd think it gave me jet lag the way I flew thru the bitch
Ion throw up no flag I just be doing my shit
You don't got no bag you don't be moving yo shit
You'd think it gave me jet lag the way I flew thru the bitch
Yeah that might be yo hoe I'm still gon hit it up
Hoe there's a ringing on my phone am I gon pick it up
Now there's a knocking at my door am I gon lift it up
Thats just the fiends coming for more they know I'll get em sum
I just stacked me up some cash in this duffel bag
These bitches always trippin must be off a truffle bag
I'm stacking golden digits you ain't made enough of that
I rock and roll with fishes ion whip up nun but crack
I got white bitch and white hoes tryna get it
Why you capping bout the bread when I can go and ask the city
Know the dope getting to they head that's why I whip spaghetti
They won't buy from nowhere else cause all the mix hit with confetti
It ain't mine it must be yours
Smoke a dime be on the floor
They get one punch of these and they'll be flying back fosho
Now they waiting at the door
Fiends keep calling for more
Imma have to get it to em cause they know that's what I'm for
Hunnids in my pocket but I'm prolly with ya hoe
Out here counting dough but all I ever want is more
Pick them jeans up all I ever want is throat
Hunnids in my pockets cause it's hunnids that what made me
I'd love to sit and talk but I got mixes in the making
Ain't talking bout a bitch but I love seeing different faces
They said I ain't come round in a while well shit changes
That's just how it go
Swear I seen my left man turn into a hoe
And I seen my right hand turn into a soul
This shit gon come with life man you better learn to cope
How you do not got a pole you must be new to this shit
Ion throw up no flag I just be doing my shit
You don't got no bag you don't be moving yo shit
You'd think it gave me jet lag the way I flew thru the bitch
Writer: Alexander Chadock
Copyright: Lyrics © Too Lost LLC, O/B/O DistroKid
Copyright: Lyrics © Too Lost LLC, O/B/O DistroKid