Rico Xyy - Pop It (feat. G.O.D Xaynn) Lyrics

Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah
Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah
Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah
Yeah, yeah, yeah
Niggas wouldn't buck even if Chloe, Halle told them do it
Know most of yall don't like me but my story y'all view it
I never link up with bitches unless they first name Cuban
Mark my words I'm on neck all year long, and I'm so ruthless
One album in, my second one finna pop it
New year, new me, a new day, just made another deposit
My new bitch got mad cake, man she shittin' on Betty Crocker
I'm finna dish out sickness back to back, should see a doctor
Anyways I'm the it guy, you know it giving that
A clown ask how I feel, feels good to be the prince of rap
If she throw it back up in the club a def I'm hitting that
En casa con mi 'migos, tequila, hell yeah, we sipping that, yee
Said this the winning bracket, we forever gonn' ball
Our pockets be on biggie and y'all's be on smalls
Wonder what it's gonn' take to get her out her draws
She doing a handstand, hands on the floor, feet on wall
Then she
Pop it, pop it, pop it, pop it
Pop it, pop it, pop it, pop it
Pop it, pop it, pop it, pop it
Pop it, pop it, pop it, pop it
Yeah
When he gets me on a track he knows I'm gonna talk shit
Putting bitches on backs 'cuz I am the top bitch
Yes, they're gonna tune in when I am the topic
Still confused as why these bitches watchin' my pockets
I been the number one
Yeah you hate it but it's true
He knows I like them girls but he do what he do
Switching flows, moving goals
Keep bitches up on they toes
My wrist be on icy
Y'all banks be on froze
You know you just a fraud bitch
You ain't making no profit
She ain't your girl, she's our bitch
You ain't the shit but garbage
Without me, you look lost sis
Shutup, cut your losses
If I'm the reason you eat
You gonn' have to starve bitch
Said this the winning bracket, we forever gonn' ball
Our pockets be on biggie and y'all's be on smalls
Wonder what it's gonn' take to get her out her draws
She doing a handstand, hands on the floor, feet on wall
Then she
Pop it, pop it, pop it, pop it
Pop it, pop it, pop it, pop it
Pop it, pop it, pop it, pop it
Pop it, pop it, pop it, pop it
I'm in the cut and lit and y'all chicken, oh y'all cutlets
Not a Ruger but a switch, y'all names still be on bullets
I'm handsome get money, everything on your girl bucket
Not ratchet but I'm fine, that's why yo nigga cuffed it
Said this the winning bracket, we forever gonn' ball
Our pockets be on biggie and y'all's be on smalls
Wonder what it's gonn' take to get her out her draws
She doing a handstand, hands on the floor, feet on wall
Then she
Pop it, pop it, pop it, pop it
Pop it, pop it, pop it, pop it
Pop it, pop it, pop it, pop it
Pop it, pop it, pop it, pop it