Lyrics

This the type of beat that I could shit on You can't say you fell off you ain't ever poppin' never been on I ain't rappin' I be talking shit they be funny like sitcoms I could tell you what you done to me you can tell me what I did wrong This the type of beat that I could shit on You can't say you fell off you ain't ever poppin' never been on I ain't rappin' I be talking shit they be funny like sitcoms I could tell you what you done to me you can tell me what I did wrong Ten twenty thirty bitches all up on my blocklist I like girls with glasses 'cause they can't see that I'm not shit She flexing her watch what they don't know is that I bought it Her new man pull up with a chopstick damn that bitch so toxic I got hunnid's in my stash I want hunnid's and I want fifty's now No I ain't showing no love no I can never show no pity now Think she a dub no she ain't foreign from the city aye Think I'm in love SIKE! We can't talk fuck a committee aye I be feeling like I'm Will Smith the way that my shit slap People talking bitches talking they finna get bitch slapped I'm chasing mula I'm the ruler got money got big stacks You can't let them do that shit to you go hit yo lick back This the type of beat that I could shit on This the type of beat that I could shit on This the type of beat that I could shit on This the type of, aye aye This the type of beat that I could shit on You can't say you fell off you ain't ever poppin' never been on I ain't rappin' I be talking shit they be funny like sitcoms I could tell you what you done to me you can tell me what I did wrong This the type of beat that I could shit on You can't say you fell off you ain't ever poppin' never been on I ain't rappin' I be talking shit they be funny like sitcoms I could tell you what you done to me you can tell me what I did wrong Told my brother that it's money over hoes And he keep a tool he work at Lowe's Let her where my chain and then she froze And she lucky she the one I chose P.O.V ima get this money G.O.D I know he love me If I respond then she lucky Told that bitch no she can't judge me I can't be fucked with fuck a hater fuck a opp If she go out every weekend then she a thot I want Sally I want Vicky I want Susie My exes hate me they so picky and they choosy Bro get to poppin' shit choppin' shit like he Bruce Lee And my heart been broke 'cause all these bitches wanna use me I'm goin' through a lot Tryna chase a bag but I ain't ever tryna do a lot Why they speakin' on my name I ain't ever tryna go do too much But now I'm taking W's shit I used to lose too much I used to lose too much I used to lose too much Used to lose too much I used to lose too much
Writer(s): Jacob Bengson Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com
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