Pop iiT
Lyrics
Aye, ah, aye, uh, aye, ah, ah, ah, ah, ah, ah, ah, ah, ah, ah
Popping Percocet, all night, yeah
I fall in love, yeah
I fall in love, yeah
She be whining, over drugs, yeah
She be rolling, overnight, yeah
Got a trap phone
And my bank account plenty
I want it all in a minute
I want it all, I ain't playin'
Drinking all, drinking plenty
How I get like this?
Had to slow it down
Ride around in the Benz when I roll 'round
And I got a seven-eater when it goes down
Send his ass couple shots, he with the Lord now
And I got a couple killers in the dog pound, dog pound
And I got a broad
She from Portland
Bringing birds in
Got no girlfriend
It won't hurt my stress
Go to Maryland
Count money
All around
I share Xans
Getting no stress
Pop a Percocet
Getting no stress
I found the wrong bean
Then I fall down
I'm drinking slow lean
Then I slow down
Pop a Percocet
Getting no stress
I found the wrong bean
Then I fall down
I'm drinking slow lean
Then I slow down
Got a seven-seater, when it go down
Pop a Percocet and it hurt your chest
Got a big nine and it hurt your vest
And I got a tank hit the first connect
Then I pop yo car, getting first to check
Then I fuck yo broad, getting first to neck
Nigga got a get, I'll hearse yo jet
And I got a blonde, she my Hershey kiss
I just bought a AP, I just hurt my wrist
I just bought my AP, I just hurt yo bitch
I just bought my AP, I just hurt them niggas
When I pull up on you, we be throwing triggers
Got my forty cal., make my boys bigger
Pay or PayPal, it ain't no rental
And my Lamborghini cost like five figures
I pull up on yo block with like five niggas
I heard you fresh to death so you died, nigga
Popping Percocet, all night, yeah
I fall in love, yeah
I fall in love, yeah
She be whining, over drugs, yeah
She be rolling, overnight, yeah
I got a trap phone
And my bank account plenty
I want it all in a minute
I want it all, I ain't playin'
Drinking all, drinking plenty
How I get like this?
Had to slow it down
Ride around in the Benz when I roll 'round
And I got a seven-seater when it goes down
Send his ass couple shots, he with the Lord now
And I got a couple killers in the dog pound, dog pound
Writer(s): Bryan Trillos, Mike Dean, Sidney Selby
Copyright(s): Lyrics © Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC, Kobalt Music Publishing Ltd., Warner Chappell Music, Inc.
Lyrics Licensed & Provided by LyricFind
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