Lyrics
She ain't my type but I'm still gon hit her
Off of this cup
Fucked up my liver
Breaking that back
Til she get them shivers
couldn't give a fuck if you fuck on the members
That's a 2 for 1
Lil slut remember
Cold hearted just like December
Swipe left on a trick like tinder
My rep Like a jet
Move quicker
Blue check on my neck
And dancing
Success feel good in the Hamptons
Riding waves killing flows like Manson
Till the boy, pop up in a mansion
So big, I forgot my address
Still hood, so don't check my mattress
Man this shit could get havoc
I Fell in love with the frontend
then the backend been bringing me back in
On the road got attached to attachments
But I never be asking who snapping?
She say I'm the realist she ever had
That's the reason we probably ain't matching
Had to tell her to get off of my body
Felt the vibes
Cause I'm hot like wasabi
Cook in your face
My mind on hibachi
30 for 30
No way they could match it
Buzz in a month
And it feel like it's magic
Try to go up
Buts that's when they start dragging
Pinky ring on used to be like a Aladdin
And now they get caught up in acting
Acting like imma give Oscar's
For niggas who turn out imposter
They better off getting the chopper
And knocking themselves with the knocker
When they locked him
He sung like the opera
Used my name
Man that shit make me nauseous
In these streets
Man you gotta move cautious
Cause these goonies
Be plotting and watching
Man this shit could get havoc
I Fell in love with the frontend
then the backend been bringing me back in
On the road got attached to attachments
But I never be asking who snapping?
She say I'm the realist she ever had
That's the reason we probably ain't matching
WRITERS
Dawan Strawder-Saunders
PUBLISHERS
Lyrics © O/B/O DistroKid
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