Bookoo Bucks
Lyrics
(ATL Jacobs, ATL Jacobs)
Beaucoup bucks, foreign coupe rush
Do too much, shop too much
I'm too up, I'm feelin' a rush
Haters on hush, wrists so slush
I'm too up, with two sluts
I'm too up, give two fucks
Up the pump, bitch, what's up?
Windows up, geeked as fuck (uh)
Shoot my shot, I'm hot just like I'm Kobe
Niggas steady talking like they know me
Never did a damn thing that they told me
Oowee, oowee
Taking shit back to my old days, yeah
Fuckin' this paper, no foreplay, yeah
I can't be caught out by no low stakes
When my name in their mouth like it's Colgate, yeah
I've been running this shit up with no brakes
Nigga, get in my way and it's road rage, yeah
Poles give that nigga pole face, yeah
Ghost give that nigga ghost face, yeah
Touch down ATL, long flight straight out that jungle
I walked outta customs and got to it, I don't play about that hustle
You've got a bag, but this ain't bag, yeah, this is a duffel
She got a ass, but she ain't that bad, she need to be humble
Beaucoup bucks, foreign coupe rush
Do too much, shop too much
I'm too up, I'm feelin' a rush
Haters on hush, wrists so slush
I'm too up, with two sluts
I'm too up, give two fucks
Up the pump, bitch, what's up?
Windows up, geeked as fuck (uh)
Shoot my shot, I'm hot just like I'm Kobe
Niggas steady talking like they know me
Never did a damn thing that they told me
Oowee, oowee
I'm in that big body, Dior my sock body
Shooters gon' ride by me
Tell me what's your location
Mask up, no cases, penthouse, no babies
Gucci down, yeah, I'm crazy
Keep sticks, got Glocks with a laser, yeah
go off for my people
I keep a weapon, it's lethal
I'm runnin' up bands like a cheetah
Cut off your thumb, we don't beef through no message
.223 hit him and came out his belly
Flooded my mouth with veneer, looking edgy
Smoke out the pack, then we sip on the extra
Bet the Maybach drive itself like a Tesla
Steppin' on shit, yeah, my footprint be leather
Go cop a Demon, I call it the devil
I keep some green on me, talking 'bout like relish
Beaucoup bucks, foreign coupe rush
Do too much, shop too much
I'm too up, I'm feelin' a rush
Haters on hush, wrists so slush
I'm too up, with two sluts
I'm too up, give two fucks
Up the pump, bitch, what's up?
Windows up, geeked as fuck (uh)
Shoot my shot, I'm hot just like I'm Kobe
Niggas steady talking like they know me
Never did a damn thing that they told me
Oowee, oowee
Rock to a 24, ain't talkin Kobe
Nigga talkin out his neck, I don't even know him (say what?)
Nigga talkin' fake ass, tell a nigga to show me (let's go)
Spinnin' on the block, man, lookin' like ooh
Black and white diamonds, Andy Griffiith, I ain't Opie
Told her put her little bitty mouth on my tool (say what?)
Hey, hey, went and put that Cartier watch on my wrist (talk to 'em)
Man, be nasty, we slime in a Bentley (be nasty, we slime)
Wishin' to genies, my top off the 'Ghini
I came from the bottom, she came in bikinis
We blow the top off the op in a minute
Ya'll niggas' songs ain't having no meanings (no sir)
Do that lil slide, chop it up like zucchini
Oh oh (chop, chop, chop)
Beaucoup bucks, foreign coupe rush
Do too much, shop too much (we slatt, we slime)
I'm too up, I'm feelin' a rush
Haters on hush, wrists so slush (slimeball)
I'm too up, with two sluts
I'm too up, give two fucks
Up the pump, bitch, what's up?
Windows up, geeked as fuck (uh)
Shoot my shot, I'm hot just like I'm Kobe
Niggas steady talking like they know me
Never did a damn thing that they told me
Oowee, oowee
Writer(s): Jacob Canady, Colin Gayle, Nsikayesizwe Ngcobo, Raqhid Render, Semaja Render
Copyright(s): Lyrics © Freibank Musikverlags und vermarktungs GmbH, Universal Music Publishing Group, CONCORD MUSIC PUBLISHING LLC, Royalty Network, Warner Chappell Music, Inc.
Lyrics Licensed & Provided by LyricFind
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