Intro
Lyrics
This ain't a mixtape
Bitch, this a rich tape
Nah, it ain't my birthday, but I got big cake
Give a bitch a shot, she don't wanna miss a big break
Big bank, big frank rollie with the big face
Run up too fast, that'll be a mistake
Glock 17 make a nigga get his shit straight
Chrome to the dome, put the dick in ya' bitch face
Rolls Royce truck, we just call it the big wraith
Hold on hoe, hold on
Bring that shit back
Hold on hoe, hold on hoe
Hold on
Bitch
Three six Bentley on that flow shit
Yo' new shit sound like my old shit
Y'all niggas just like rocks in the ocean
Get the hoes twisted, now they wide open
Told ya', I ain't got time for the bull
My name hold weight
In the street, I got pull
Murdered that pussy, I'm killing ya'll boys
Suicide boys be killing ya'll noise
When it rains it pours
Good dope coming out my pores
Walk in, buy the whole store
'Member I was poor
Oh well, not no more
Get paid, fuck these whores
Used to have to sell that rock
Now, we be rockin' these shows, we all on tours
Ball like I handle that rock
Come to the crib, hit the bitch on woodgrain floors
Do I really got them bands?
(Yeah hoe, yeah hoe)
I want you and all your friends
(Yeah hoe, yeah hoe)
Can you hop up in this benz?
(Yeah hoe, yeah hoe)
Make you wanna leave your man
(Yeah hoe, yeah hoe, yeah)
Writer(s): Jordan Houston
Copyright(s): Lyrics © BMG Rights Management, Universal Music Publishing Group, Warner Chappell Music, Inc.
Lyrics Licensed & Provided by LyricFind
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