Yeah, ties nigga
You know how this shit go, foreal
Said this shit off the dome, ain't no writing shit (Yeah)
Said you with your ho, then I done piped the bitch (Foreal)
And nine times out of ten, I didn't like the bitch
You flew her out, and I f*cked, that's a flight assist (Ooh)
And I put it on God you can't touch me (On God)
All the blue on my bitch and she love me (Foreal)
Off the cup so I'm feeling like Lucki (One hunnid)
You my son, I might give you a nuggie
Got a bitch that's gon' drop off her kids to come see me
See my neck and my wrist, and see fiji
If I'm Mario bitch you Luigi
Know you slimey, you moving too greasy
Got another that's dying to see me
I'm doing some shit that you can't
I hop off a flight, then go catch a deposit, then back on the flight, then fly straight to the bank
You ain't got no rank, my young niggas high off that dank
And the shit that you put out to start
Don't try to press Von or the rest of the ties gon' be hot on yo ass
So we pulling yo card
Talking 'bout BackPack, I'm talking 'bout Kayla
I'm talking 'bout Lik, if he catch you I can't save ya
I'm talking 'bout Laffy, that nigga the one and the two
He keep that iron like he Jason Statham
50G pulling shit from the 3 like he Tatum
If you understand, got to quote it for Batum my nigga
Off the dome, ain't no paper my nigga
Can't conversate, ain't 'bout no paper my nigga, lil bitch
Getting tired of you feminine niggas
This just a sample of rimming it nigga
And I swear to God I'm not feeling you niggas, no Diddy (Ha-ha)
I am not feeling you niggas, but I'm gon' feel on ya ho (Feel on ya ho)
I was born to get the green, and I'm born to count up the dough (Count up my racks)
I am gon' f*ck on yo bitch, and I kick her right out the door
I do this shit for the ties, and we gon' get money for sure, 150 (Foreal)
I do this shit for the ties, lil nigga, but you should know that I am 1 of 1
I get the racks, the cheese, the hoes, and these niggas sweeter than honey buns
And you know I'm number 1, and this bitch is going dumb
And you know I ain't never been no runner up
And you know I got the gun, and she want to feel my tongue, I was young and she was like 21
I ain't talking 'bout savage, your ho really average
I been getting green, I ain't talking 'bout no cabbage
He looking for the hoes that's made out of plastic
I want the ones that know they a bad bitch
Uh, this a QU4N and Von show
I want the green, I want the cheese, I'ma count up my dough
I don't want yo ho
Told her ass "get out the door"
Uh, yeah, foreal (Ties nigga)
Vons WRLD - Flight Assist (feat. QU4N) Lyrics
Vons WRLD - Flight Assist (feat. QU4N) Lyrics
Official
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Yeah, ties nigga
You know how this shit go, foreal
Said this shit off the dome, ain't no writing shit (Yeah)
Said you with your ho, then I done piped the bitch (Foreal)
And nine times out of ten, I didn't like the bitch
You flew her out, and I f*cked, that's a flight assist (Ooh)
And I put it on God you can't touch me (On God)
All the blue on my bitch and she love me (Foreal)
Off the cup so I'm feeling like Lucki (One hunnid)
You my son, I might give you a nuggie
Got a bitch that's gon' drop off her kids to come see me
See my neck and my wrist, and see fiji
If I'm Mario bitch you Luigi
Know you slimey, you moving too greasy
Got another that's dying to see me
I'm doing some shit that you can't
I hop off a flight, then go catch a deposit, then back on the flight, then fly straight to the bank
You ain't got no rank, my young niggas high off that dank
And the shit that you put out to start
Don't try to press Von or the rest of the ties gon' be hot on yo ass
So we pulling yo card
Talking 'bout BackPack, I'm talking 'bout Kayla
I'm talking 'bout Lik, if he catch you I can't save ya
I'm talking 'bout Laffy, that nigga the one and the two
He keep that iron like he Jason Statham
50G pulling shit from the 3 like he Tatum
If you understand, got to quote it for Batum my nigga
Off the dome, ain't no paper my nigga
Can't conversate, ain't 'bout no paper my nigga, lil bitch
Getting tired of you feminine niggas
This just a sample of rimming it nigga
And I swear to God I'm not feeling you niggas, no Diddy (Ha-ha)
I am not feeling you niggas, but I'm gon' feel on ya ho (Feel on ya ho)
I was born to get the green, and I'm born to count up the dough (Count up my racks)
I am gon' f*ck on yo bitch, and I kick her right out the door
I do this shit for the ties, and we gon' get money for sure, 150 (Foreal)
I do this shit for the ties, lil nigga, but you should know that I am 1 of 1
I get the racks, the cheese, the hoes, and these niggas sweeter than honey buns
And you know I'm number 1, and this bitch is going dumb
And you know I ain't never been no runner up
And you know I got the gun, and she want to feel my tongue, I was young and she was like 21
I ain't talking 'bout savage, your ho really average
I been getting green, I ain't talking 'bout no cabbage
He looking for the hoes that's made out of plastic
I want the ones that know they a bad bitch
Uh, this a QU4N and Von show
I want the green, I want the cheese, I'ma count up my dough
I don't want yo ho
Told her ass "get out the door"
Uh, yeah, foreal (Ties nigga)
You know how this shit go, foreal
Said this shit off the dome, ain't no writing shit (Yeah)
Said you with your ho, then I done piped the bitch (Foreal)
And nine times out of ten, I didn't like the bitch
You flew her out, and I f*cked, that's a flight assist (Ooh)
And I put it on God you can't touch me (On God)
All the blue on my bitch and she love me (Foreal)
Off the cup so I'm feeling like Lucki (One hunnid)
You my son, I might give you a nuggie
Got a bitch that's gon' drop off her kids to come see me
See my neck and my wrist, and see fiji
If I'm Mario bitch you Luigi
Know you slimey, you moving too greasy
Got another that's dying to see me
I'm doing some shit that you can't
I hop off a flight, then go catch a deposit, then back on the flight, then fly straight to the bank
You ain't got no rank, my young niggas high off that dank
And the shit that you put out to start
Don't try to press Von or the rest of the ties gon' be hot on yo ass
So we pulling yo card
Talking 'bout BackPack, I'm talking 'bout Kayla
I'm talking 'bout Lik, if he catch you I can't save ya
I'm talking 'bout Laffy, that nigga the one and the two
He keep that iron like he Jason Statham
50G pulling shit from the 3 like he Tatum
If you understand, got to quote it for Batum my nigga
Off the dome, ain't no paper my nigga
Can't conversate, ain't 'bout no paper my nigga, lil bitch
Getting tired of you feminine niggas
This just a sample of rimming it nigga
And I swear to God I'm not feeling you niggas, no Diddy (Ha-ha)
I am not feeling you niggas, but I'm gon' feel on ya ho (Feel on ya ho)
I was born to get the green, and I'm born to count up the dough (Count up my racks)
I am gon' f*ck on yo bitch, and I kick her right out the door
I do this shit for the ties, and we gon' get money for sure, 150 (Foreal)
I do this shit for the ties, lil nigga, but you should know that I am 1 of 1
I get the racks, the cheese, the hoes, and these niggas sweeter than honey buns
And you know I'm number 1, and this bitch is going dumb
And you know I ain't never been no runner up
And you know I got the gun, and she want to feel my tongue, I was young and she was like 21
I ain't talking 'bout savage, your ho really average
I been getting green, I ain't talking 'bout no cabbage
He looking for the hoes that's made out of plastic
I want the ones that know they a bad bitch
Uh, this a QU4N and Von show
I want the green, I want the cheese, I'ma count up my dough
I don't want yo ho
Told her ass "get out the door"
Uh, yeah, foreal (Ties nigga)
Writer: Quandarious Gates, Von Williams
Copyright: Lyrics © O/B/O DistroKid
Copyright: Lyrics © O/B/O DistroKid