Chris Tucker
Toodawooskii
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Lyrics
This beat got me out my body, think I'm feeling' it I'm in her like a swimming' pool, she say
I'm killin' shit I ain't no drill rapper, but I be drillin
This shit your bitch hit me, now I'm finna tag her, now
She sayin' I'm it Rather go get me an ARP or a brand new stick
Got a new AP up on the wrist, cost about three bricks
If you a bitch, then what's the point of taking yo bitch
Yeah, yo bitch tryna come to my house, cause she was lovin' on his dick
Back door him, for thinking' he slick, he thinkin' with his dick
I told Ryder, you can hold the choppa, cause it got some kick
They like, who you think you is, bitch, I feel myself
I'm in that Bugatti, goin' 100 like I'm tryna kill myself
I be buyin' off my own marker, I'm tryna deal myself
Boy, like talkin' how many za we got on the shelf
I don't wanna fight, but I do not duck, I put belt
Why they tryna put me in interrogation when I don't tell
If they ask Derik, just tell him what I sell
It ain't no point in askin' me, because I'm not a snitch
Had to back door my own homie, tryna get at my bitch
Had to cut some niggas out the loop, they fuckin' up my dream
I just want a lot of money and a big booty queen
Gettin' to that bag, fuckin' a bitch in my dream
Gotta be a lil' sassy with it, I know your coochie ain't clean
Yeah, Glock 40, this bitch got a great jumper
Kick a off bitch off the block, I would've face-fucked her
I could be a good actor, I'm talkin' Chris Tucker
Pushin' weight off in a U-Haul, yeah, this a big truck
I just pop my shit and talk that shit, I don't really get no fuck
Nigga try to buck me out a dollar, cause he ain't got no buck
Told the bitch that I was cheating, either way, I don't get no fuck
Brody tried to bring the fully out of the truck and made him duck
I would've got another bag if bitches ain't fumble
Yeah, he tryna run away from the opps, he quick to break pumble
My phone ain't got no service, I been tryna scam the bank
I Took a left then him with my right I'm punching, shit like tank
On the phone, talkin' to the bank, this shit here got me nervous
I was tryna plot the play, I missed the call, I ain't got no service
Ayy, what
He tryna blick, bro, but the graze is epidermis
Bitch's hair was too straight, bro, said I couldn't perm this
Took Dean to McDonald's, bro, tryna get a Big Mac
I ain't no lazy motherfucker, I do flip packs
Nigga, why you tryna flex it, band? I can show you about two
20K up in the shoebox, they be like, oh, damn who you
Bitch, you know my name, I'm him, don't get it twisted
It's nothin' new, the cartier dark on the outside
But the inside, you see through
Wait, Derik, don't put on the shades, you couldn't even see me
No conversation if it's only bout green lean
What the fuck? We the shit talkers, we not no dream team
Bordie poppin' a perc in public, yeah, I know that fiend scene
We got our own shit, we don't need no fuckin' team
Nigga, we doin' our own thing, we don't need no group
Expensive Meal, an thousand on steak and a hundred on some soup
Hoppin' out, butterfly doors in a brand new coupe
I don't think it's lit, I'm talkin' lunchtime, it's bubble guppies
Damn, you just got your bitch tucked, Brodie huffy and puffy