Ooh, clean that boy up off the scene, mop him up
No funny sh#t Bangout, this how we coming
Yes
Like, yes, tell my younging TOS, he know what that mean
Stretch that boy quick like limousine, jakey clean the scene
Geeked up listening to Bobby Womack in the SRT
Flex
Yeah, we stepping on that pack, then we serve his #ss
Wifey swerving, German tags, the glickies in her Birkin bag
Press me, ask me the wrong question, I’mma stretch his #ss
Jetski, waverunner cross a 20 pack
Lil bro said he tired of this sh#t, he gonna get that boy
Gadgets on the bottom of the fifth, the green beam whiff the boy
Shooter never meant no, he a sicko boy
I’m in lil Cuba, we got U-Hauls of the Chips Ahoy!
Check please, two bands for his steak, his wrist on Gretzky
Stretch clean, taxing out of state, I got a parakeet
Messy, mini
Glock smoke, swerve that lil boy, like a pothole
Styrofoam, put that stick to work, yeah, it’s job
Dopebowl, killer tie a rag, round the .44
Street sweeper, lil bro in the hallway with the big demon
Track’ scratching, waking up the neighbors, money
Fishtail him, like a Israeli
Big smoke, soon as they bring it, I be inhaling
Fishscaling, out the jungle, I was chin-chilling
Fishscaling, couple Gs for some dungarees
Butter seats in this Cullinan, I got flooded teeth
Hover board, on her knees speaking
Voldemort, dark magic, on a muddy spree
Find more lyrics at westlyrics.com
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