n#gg#s goin’ broke, mad as hell, yellin’ like brandon jackson
Send an opp n#gg# straight to hell, i feel like marilyn manson
Got your b#tch with me, and her friend casamigos dancin’
30k pound in all dubs, that’s a danny phantom
Nineteen low, but can’t get this stick on the market, hold the corey brewer
Yeah, like waka flocka when it’s smoke, screamin’, “oh, let’s do it”
You say you got your bag up out the mud, i got mine out the sewer
Don’t give a f#ck about no opp in the club, i brought my stick into it
The way i drip in designer, i feel like guapo how i put it on
I thought your #ss was sippin’ wock’, that’s quagen in your styrofoam
I’m settin’ the traps for rats when i’m in thе streets like i’m off home alone
I’m kobе with the rock, no need to pass the ball or pick and roll
I walked in saks and spent five thousand just to drip from head to toe
Come into my trap, ain’t no loads, it’s just exotic ‘bows
Never say never, when it come to all my brothers, i’ll never fold
I spend 5k a month just to smoke on pinky’s oreoz
Gang, gang, gang
You can try to find the sh#t i’m rockin’, ain’t in none of these stores
Amiri jeans holdin’ black steel, but my heart chrome
You can try to run off with the bag, hit his backbone
Down south, made a hundred bands without a smartphone
Touchdown, i make one call, get the bag gone
Sippin’ mud, n#gg#, i’m the reason all the fanta gone
All my drugs expensive, all my hoes expensives
Brodie got the smith &, i’m loaded off prescriptions
I don’t even want your b#tch, i pay that ho to drive the rental
Every time i see that b#tch, she open wide like i’m a dentist
You can’t serve that dope just how it came, you gotta hit it
She ain’t never been my type, i spent fifteen just on my denim
How you forgot your opp and then you seen him and ain’t drill him?
Lil’ bro shut the door on him, light the stove and mind your business
n#gg#s goin’ broke, mad as hell, yellin’ like brandon jackson
Send an opp n#gg# straight to hell, i feel like marilyn manson
Got your b#tch with me, and her friend casamigos dancin’
30k pound in all dubs, that’s a danny phantom
Nineteen low, but can’t get this stick on the market, hold the corey brewer
Yeah, like waka flocka when it’s smoke, screamin’, “oh, let’s do it”
You say you got your bag up out the mud, i got mine out the sewer
Don’t give a f#ck about no opp in the club, i brought my stick into it
Find more lyrics at westlyrics.com
Disclosure: As an Amazon Associate and an Apple Partner, we earn from qualifying purchases
sammy rash – thankful&grateful
Thee_jay_gatsby – Elevate
BTB Savage Lyrics – Marilyn Manson