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6ixbuzz & Pressa & Houdini
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๐ฌ๐ง English ยท Original
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Gucci line and pana match my kick
She got those big ol' tits that match her hip
And my niggas better ride, you get pitched
She want love when Pressa need a brick
He tried to slide, unfortunate his hammer glitched
I'm making all this money now I feel like Mitch
I couldn't care about a nigga or a bitch
I couldn't leave the trap I'd miss a whole lotta nips
And all features I'mma buy dat my wrist
Ordinary block boy just a little bit from rich
Put that thirty in the glock, now we walking with a stick
And trap house it got bad, boss Pressa he get bit
Feels good I don't gotta see my lawyer
Still with the shits you know I'm still tryna avoid her
I know they mad cause a nigga crossed the border
He been sitting on that pack, called that kid a little horder
He called me a drug dealer, call me Richie Porter
Shooting no forward, ball like Jalen Poyser
Trap house boring but we still placing orders
Quarter-brick, half a brick feel like a OG (aye, aye)
Trapping my genetics
Them trips, I won't regret it
Real grains, no pellet
Free my fellow felons
Droptop on Sunset, lil bitch can't get in
Even niggas upset, Valentino stepping
Got two in my cup, with two grams in my blunt
Dare a nigga try some
Hot shit make him run
They ain't even up
Move like they be up
I can't trust a bitch
Or can't trust a slut
She up on the kid
She can't get enough
Like glue, move it stuck
Got wassas in the cut
You say money don't buy love
Shoutout the plug, still give me one
Don't feel like you put me on
Still got it on my own
My opps ain't a problem
My shooters on parole
My niggas in jail cells
Bad bitches answer phones
That nigga on fire like stop, drop, and roll
You want a boatload but can't even drive a boat
Remind me redfox, put em on the redbox
Niggas pulled up on me, almost shot me by the greenbox
We was talking trapping, turn down when the stove hot
They was talking sit down and sit down like my grandpa
Sit down like my lola
Best again get some lola
And I'm Filipino but I ain't goin back home (yuh)
Shooters they gon on ya
Shooters they all on ya
And my grandma said don't trust niggas they go code red
I'm that nigga they wanna know
Trap house with double phones
Used to get it in by the low
Bricks are high in the low
If you really know what I mean
Trap house running like Krispy Kreme
I'm a vampire need to feed
He gon vomit when you breathe
The opps they gon bleed and just bleed
Headshot on the scene
Yeah, he miskeen
Yeah my warayahs on debris
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