From Down Bad
Lyrics
(Earl on the beat)
It's the code
Everybody live by the code, it's the code
Hey (hey), hey (hey), hey (hey), brrt
Run up an M from down bad
Plottin' on hoes I ain't had
Percs in my pocket from laundromat
My bitch get a bag from her old man
Don't judge no one
Don't pull up if you ain't fuckin' someone
She ridin' dick and her best friend shotgun (boom)
My son an icon, suck me with my ice on
Me and my day-ones too tight, we don't fall out 'bout no one
Run up them racks, shoebox like a GoFund
The rap game sweet as a Cinnabon
Ride with my niggas, they ridin' for sure (for sure)
Your old nigga act like a ho
Tell him my FN turn exes to O's (brrt)
We can just see where it go
My lil' baby get high, ayy
She off two tens, she living like Scotty
Moving her body, now she up at Follies
My Mexican bitch up in Phoenix, she looking like Barkley, ayy
Fuck on that bitch in the whip, the Maybach like an RV (skrrt), mmh
Lil' nigga, you wasn't gang when the gang called me RD
One second (uh)
I'm with them soldiers now (uh)
Running up bags, how? (Uh)
Everyone know me now
Run up an M from down bad (let's go)
Plottin' on hoes I ain't had (yeah)
Percs in my pocket from laundromat (yeah)
My bitch get a bag from her old man (yeah)
Don't judge no one (nah)
Don't pull up if you ain't fuckin' someone
She ridin' dick and her best friend shotgun (boom)
My son an icon (yeah), suck me with my ice on
Me and my day-ones too tight, we don't fall out 'bout no one
Run up them racks, shoebox like a GoFund (run it up)
The rap game sweet as a Cinnabon
I know they need me
Without me, they square as a TV (facts)
Like me and leave me
I'ma be rich 'til I D-I-E
These niggas act like the CIA
Too calm being broke, must be off the CBD (yeah)
Earrings like DVDs
I do VVs, these niggas do CZs (yeah)
That's why when you see them, you do not see me (go)
Niggas be big Crips, still wanna be me
I'm tryna fuck, don't take up my evening
I want that top, seasoning
From the four-four, with so
Big Draco gon' blow (boom)
Run up an M from down bad (yeah)
Plottin' on hoes I ain't had
Percs in my pocket from laundromat
My bitch get a bag from her old man
Don't judge no one (no, no)
Don't pull up if you ain't fuckin' someone
She ridin' dick (yeah), and her best friend shotgun (yeah)
My son an icon (yeah), suck me with my ice on (oh, yeah)
Me and my day-ones too tight, we don't fall out 'bout no one
Run up them racks, shoebox like a GoFund
The rap game sweet as a Cinnabon
Writer(s): Isaac Earl Bynum, Miles Parks McCollum
Copyright(s): Lyrics © Universal Music Publishing Group
Lyrics Licensed & Provided by LyricFind
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