You can’t play with a boss, man you see the cross on my jeans, I’ma send you to heaven
I need to slow down, I wanna dirty the cup, I’ll go 7 Eleven
And you better watch your step, if you crossing the line, I might pull out a weapon
I been teaching myself bout the game (grr, grr) it’s the end of the lesson
Can’t decide if it’s right or wrong, I’m whipping her good, you would think I’m a sad#st
Only wearing Comme Des Garçons, it’s not made in China, you’d think I’m a racist
Flexing Cartier bracelets on both of my arms, of course I ain’t rocking with stainless
Why you tryna get close to my girl, oh you ain’t a therapist, you is the rapist
Going crazy I’m stuck in my zone
On a trip I ain’t making it home
My shorty got done for domestic abuse, the way she keep hitting my phone
I just hop out the booth and I roll me a wood, sh#t I might not remember the song
I’ma drop me some syrup to crank up the spirit (uhuh) hold on I’m bouta
…Go!
…Go!
…Go!
On this side I’m just smoking my weed by the pound and I’m dranking my drank by the litre
Shorty gon’ sit on my lap in a Porsche (rrr) it’s a two-seater
I went to the club, she feeling me up, so I might just f#ck this chick
I got arthritis in my arms, cuz I’m bouta bust this wrist
Shit, we got ninety-nine problems, I’m bouta hit a hundred licks
What she gon’ do, she got a lisp, and she wanna thuck thith dick
Hit from the back, get the camera, I’m filming a tape, bouta put it on TikTok
You feel like your life is fun, but my life a movie directed by Rick Ross
I put the Himalayas on my neck and my arms, only pull up with big rocks
Oh yeah she’s a ratchet b#tch, she leaving the telly in shades and flip-flops
Can’t decide if it’s right or wrong, I’m whipping her good, you would think I’m a sad#st
Only wearing Comme Des Garçons, it’s not made in China, you’d think I’m a racist
Flexing Cartier bracelets on both of my arms, of course I ain’t rocking with stainless
Why you tryna get close to my girl, oh you ain’t a therapist, you is the rapist
Going crazy I’m stuck in my zone
On a trip I ain’t making it home
My shorty got done for domestic abuse, the way she keep hitting my phone
I just hop out the booth and I roll me a wood, sh#t I might not remember the song
I’ma drop me some syrup to crank up the spirit (uhuh) hold on I’m bouta
…Go!
…Go!
…Go!
On this side I’m just smoking my weed by the pound and I’m dranking my drank by the litre
Shorty gon’ sit on my lap in a Porsche (rrr) it’s a two-seater
Find more lyrics at westlyrics.com
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