What You Say
Lyrics
(Fuck what they say) I done made it out the storm
(Shit, you know I did) check my bank, I made new commas
(I can't) I can't take no break, I'm way too young
I want count up every day I'm out
Try takin' anything to keep my sane, I've been hustlin'
I been grindin' hard on my momma
Soul actin' lame, with my main I've been fussin'
I got too much money for these problems
I won't take these drugs with my friends, huh, oh
I got all these hoes, all these clothes in my crib, yeah
I fucked on them both, yes, I did, yah
You can't trust these hoes, I won't hold you, that's what it is, yeah
Huh, I'm too real, Draco in my peacoat
I need some right here, pussy nigga get killed, oh
Playin' 'round with these millions, lil' bro (like, lil' bro)
(Fuck what they say) I done made it out the storm
(Shit, you know I did) check my bank, I made new commas
(I can't) I can't take no break, I'm way too young
I want count up every day I'm out
Pull up to this party, not for fun
Makin' sure I stack my money tall
Know that I look nice enough for someone
Fresher, I might leave here with lil' shawty
All this drama, baby, I'm too rich for that
All these commas, like I'm an aristocrat
In Bahamas, posted with my bitch with that
Say that you want problems? It's no problem, we got shit for that
Windows tinted, whip is all black
And my credit card lookin' all platinum
And your bitch told me she want all action
Hit it once with a gold Magnum
I don't really care 'bout what the blogs say
'Cause my momma good and my dawgs straight
You know if you could, you'd be on the same
I'm in Hollywood, gettin' all faded, I swear
I can't take breaks, I'm too young
Strip club, throwin' up dubs
You can't tell me none
Two-hundred in my cup
I was paid to be in this club
No, I don't do shit for fun
(Fuck what they say) I done made it out the storm
(Shit, you know I did) check my bank, I made new commas
(I can't) I can't take no break, I'm way too young
I want count up every day I'm out
Pull up to this party, not for fun
Makin' sure I stack my money tall
Know that I look nice enough for someone
Fresher, I might leave here with lil' shawty
It's gotten cold, I want that ice with Stompeez on
Tommy fold, give somethin' they can copy off
Talk slow, I'm super sweet but choppa low
That chain you gave her on, she told me, "Fuck the diamonds off"
I did, I'm poppin' off and I can't never clock off
Hey, I can't have my baby rockin' Ricky knockoffs
Hey, my buddies gonna slide and maybe spin that block off
Hey, fishtail off that lot and chop-chop-chop the top off
I can't do this alone
She a pain on the tone
If you say you will follow me too
I'd be happy with you, uh
(Fuck what they say) I done made it out the storm
(Shit, you know I did) check my bank, I made new commas
(I can't) I can't take no break, I'm way too young
I want count up every day I'm out
Pull up to this party, not for fun
Makin' sure I stack my money tall
Know that I look nice enough for someone
Fresher, I might leave here with lil' shawty
Writer(s): Austin Richard Post, Charlton Kenneth Jeffrey Howard, Jason Goldberg, Jeffery Robinson, Kentrell Deshawn Gaulden, Simon Walbrook
Copyright(s): Lyrics © Universal Music Publishing Group, CONCORD MUSIC PUBLISHING LLC, Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC, Kobalt Music Publishing Ltd.
Lyrics Licensed & Provided by LyricFind
The Meaning of What You Say
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