(Low the Great)
(IsThatTrey)
We can run a one-on-one or you can box the 40
I ain't tryna be rappin' 'til I'm forty
I can tell that she was broke 'cause she argued poorly
Boy, that is not no condo, it's just three stories
On a date with a bum, man, I feel like Dorothy
Hmm, 'cause I wanna go home
I can feel the G6 flowin' through my bones
I know words'll never hurt you, so I throw stones
They want some smoke, know where to find me, I'm home alone
Hmm
Pretty bitch, nickname my pussy Welch's
Out in Boston, tryna f*ck on one them Celtics
I need a nigga like Franklin, not like Elvis
I might get a nigga spanked if he kiss and tell
I had P's and EDs waiting by the mail
Ain't have to do nothing, these pills gon' sell they self
Ain't f*ckin' no more scammers, my tricks got wealth
Put me on a jet, put me in a Birk'
Put me on some X, make them pockets hurt
Wanna see me out them pants, double-C my skirt
Put that sack in an ankle lock just like Kurt
He ain't know what he was doin', I did not squirt
I could run this nigga pockets, he high off Percs
I could get a weak bitch put on a shirt
I could get a weak bitch brother put in the dirt
I'm the new bitch runnin' shit, I thought you heard
I ain't steppin' outside with none of you birds
If it ain't makin' us money, then I can't make it
I was sleep in a Rolls with Louis blankets
I ain't answer his DMs, he fake famous
Made a nigga eat my cookie like Famous Amos
Told him we can go and tape it, I'm shameless
He went lower with his tongue, all in my anus
KARRAHBOOO - Box the 40 Lyrics
KARRAHBOOO - Box the 40 Lyrics
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(Low the Great)
(IsThatTrey)
We can run a one-on-one or you can box the 40
I ain't tryna be rappin' 'til I'm forty
I can tell that she was broke 'cause she argued poorly
Boy, that is not no condo, it's just three stories
On a date with a bum, man, I feel like Dorothy
Hmm, 'cause I wanna go home
I can feel the G6 flowin' through my bones
I know words'll never hurt you, so I throw stones
They want some smoke, know where to find me, I'm home alone
Hmm
Pretty bitch, nickname my pussy Welch's
Out in Boston, tryna f*ck on one them Celtics
I need a nigga like Franklin, not like Elvis
I might get a nigga spanked if he kiss and tell
I had P's and EDs waiting by the mail
Ain't have to do nothing, these pills gon' sell they self
Ain't f*ckin' no more scammers, my tricks got wealth
Put me on a jet, put me in a Birk'
Put me on some X, make them pockets hurt
Wanna see me out them pants, double-C my skirt
Put that sack in an ankle lock just like Kurt
He ain't know what he was doin', I did not squirt
I could run this nigga pockets, he high off Percs
I could get a weak bitch put on a shirt
I could get a weak bitch brother put in the dirt
I'm the new bitch runnin' shit, I thought you heard
I ain't steppin' outside with none of you birds
If it ain't makin' us money, then I can't make it
I was sleep in a Rolls with Louis blankets
I ain't answer his DMs, he fake famous
Made a nigga eat my cookie like Famous Amos
Told him we can go and tape it, I'm shameless
He went lower with his tongue, all in my anus
(IsThatTrey)
We can run a one-on-one or you can box the 40
I ain't tryna be rappin' 'til I'm forty
I can tell that she was broke 'cause she argued poorly
Boy, that is not no condo, it's just three stories
On a date with a bum, man, I feel like Dorothy
Hmm, 'cause I wanna go home
I can feel the G6 flowin' through my bones
I know words'll never hurt you, so I throw stones
They want some smoke, know where to find me, I'm home alone
Hmm
Pretty bitch, nickname my pussy Welch's
Out in Boston, tryna f*ck on one them Celtics
I need a nigga like Franklin, not like Elvis
I might get a nigga spanked if he kiss and tell
I had P's and EDs waiting by the mail
Ain't have to do nothing, these pills gon' sell they self
Ain't f*ckin' no more scammers, my tricks got wealth
Put me on a jet, put me in a Birk'
Put me on some X, make them pockets hurt
Wanna see me out them pants, double-C my skirt
Put that sack in an ankle lock just like Kurt
He ain't know what he was doin', I did not squirt
I could run this nigga pockets, he high off Percs
I could get a weak bitch put on a shirt
I could get a weak bitch brother put in the dirt
I'm the new bitch runnin' shit, I thought you heard
I ain't steppin' outside with none of you birds
If it ain't makin' us money, then I can't make it
I was sleep in a Rolls with Louis blankets
I ain't answer his DMs, he fake famous
Made a nigga eat my cookie like Famous Amos
Told him we can go and tape it, I'm shameless
He went lower with his tongue, all in my anus
Writer: Karrah Schuster
Copyright: Lyrics © Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC
Copyright: Lyrics © Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC