I’m tryna be low key
Blood on my palms, it haunts me
Like i'm only serving 20 rocks
Her breasts were pressed against my wry palms
Took a shot, tired of runnin from the niggas and the cops
The mic is now in my palms would you like me to drop bombs
Yeah, red bottoms, she ain't trying to dance
Temtation makes you sweaty like wax
Walkin through the streets wearin jewels, breakin niggas makin moves
I ain't had a woman in years, and my palms are too hairy to hide (whoops!)
You ain't ready, i can tell cuz your hands sweaty/
Where bad bitches with bad intentions just act friendly
Yeah got to the club early just to get in free
Brows grow sweaty but every petty
I’m just multiplying my money and dividing the legs
And seeing my parents with their palms placed on their heads
GO BACK TO WRITE A SONG ABOUT ANOTHER TOPIC !
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