I was born back, wolf pack, nigga fuck that
And dip her teeth in gold molds and flossed the shit
And i don't do colorful jeans or shiny kicks
Adams apple to sauce pages reference stacked chips
Yeah ballgame, i swear the hoes wasn’t in my plans
Well bitches stop flurring, eat chips and relax
Still kill the pussy, put the cat in a casket
This bastard spits bits of acid chips and half ass the shit
Jealousy inside, make'em wish i diedoh my lord, tell me what i'm livin' for
Hop in the the whip cuz i gota dip and there aint no reason to see you later
Shop at saks fifth like it's a target
Riding inna hammer dip
You hear that semi clap/ homie you betta dip
Whole team full of og’s packing fo-fo’s on the hip hip
GO BACK TO WRITE A SONG ABOUT ANOTHER TOPIC !
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